


Need You Now

by Jenjen96



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But he's not nice either, Explicit Language, F/M, Friends to Lovers, No Underage Sex, OOC, Possessive Tom Riddle, Professor Tom Riddle, Protective Tom Riddle, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Student Hermione Granger, Time Skips, Tom's not super evil, Underage sexual content, Veela Tom Riddle, mate hermione granger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-07-18 00:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19965904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenjen96/pseuds/Jenjen96
Summary: She's his. He's waited 68 years for her, and now that she's here, he can't wait to have her.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Helllooooooooo!!!!! Here’s a prologue to get this show started! I don’t have a set posting schedule in mind because my real-life schedule can be varied, but I’m going to try and work on this as often as I can! I already have a rough draft finished for chapter one, and I’m almost done with one for chapter two! I apologize ahead of time for how rushed my writing can be. Like I said, I’m not a writer, but I was really excited to try and bring this idea to life! I’m trying to slow down and add details as I go, and I’m hoping that I’ll get better with time and practice. 
> 
> Thank you to Starr27000 for looking this over for me and giving me feedback! And thank you to everyone for the support of this journey! I’ll try to explain anything I think needs explaining as it applies, and if anyone has any questions, please ask! 
> 
> Thank you so much for following along, and let’s get this party started!

_September 19th, 2002 ___

Tom looks over the faces of the new batch of first years in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. This is his 56th time seeing new faces, and it’s his 56th time being disappointed that none of those faces were the one he really wanted to see. Every year that _she_ doesn’t show up, the emptiness inside him grows larger. As the emptiness grows, so does his rage. He’s beginning to think that the Seer lied to him, and that he will never meet her. There’s only one thing that keeps him from leaving this school, finding the Seer, and torturing her until she wished she was dead: the chance that he could be wrong and that he could miss out on meeting _her_. 

“No, Miss Stewart. Flick your wand up at the end of the movement, not down,” Tom sighs. He dreads first year classes. It’s the same basic introductory lessons year after year. The advanced classes are more tolerable, but even those are starting to grate on his nerves recently. He’s tired of waiting with no sign of an end. At least his well-known temper keeps all his students in a constant state of fear that he’ll blow up. It’s the little things that help keep him going all these years. 

“Alright, now everyone partner u—.” Suddenly, Tom bends over with a gasp. He feels like he’s just been hit by a powerful _Flipendo_. The first years all stare at him in confusion and horror. Disoriented, Tom gasps out, “Lesson’s over. Everyone out!” The students hesitate, wary and concerned. “OUT!” Tom shouts, his eyes flashing silver, and they all scramble to gather their things. They’ve all heard stories of Professor Riddle’s quick temper, but this is their first time experiencing it. A mere shout is nothing compared to what they’ve heard he can be like, so they all quickly leave to avoid his wrath. 

Once he’s alone, he takes a deep breath to calm down and figure out what’s happening to his body. Then, he senses it. It’s like somewhere, far away, he can feel something calling to him. It’s like a warm, bright light, and suddenly he knows. _She’s_ been born. _His mate_ is finally here. Tom runs out of the classroom and heads toward his personal quarters. As soon as he enters, he rushes to the fireplace and floos to Malfoy Manor. 

“Abraxas!” Tom storms through Malfoy Manor in search of his oldest and closest follower. 

Abraxas rounds the corner to find Tom shouting out his name and barreling through the halls. He hasn’t seen Tom this fervent since he went through his Veela transformation 56 years ago. He’s instantly expecting the worst. “Tom? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“She’s here!” Tom chokes out. 

“Who? Who’s here?” 

“ _Her_! Who else? My mate! I can feel it. She’s been born. I have to find her. You have to help me find her!” Tom is frantic. He knows he’s being unreasonable, but he can’t control it. He needs to find his mate _now_. He’s waited years for her, and now that she’s here, he can’t wait to be with her. He needs to keep her safe. 

“Tom, just wait a minute. Take a second to breathe. The Seer told you that you would meet her at Hogwarts, not before. You’re not supposed to go looking for her,” Abraxas reasons. 

“I don’t care what she said! I need to find her. I need to go to her. She _needs_ me! She can’t protect herself!” Panicked, Tom starts to rush toward the manor’s entrance so he can leave and begin his search when he’s pulled back by a hand gripping his arm. Eyes flashing and fingers morphing into talons, he lashes back at his captor. 

Abraxas jumps back before he can be clawed. “Tom, wait! You need to stop and think. You only know that she’s alive. Do you know where she is? Can you find her?” Tom’s scowl is all he needs to see to know that he can’t. “You’re never going to find her if you just blindly search for her. She could be anywhere. You need to stick to the plan, stay at Hogwarts, and meet her there like the Seer told you.” He can see that Tom’s at least considering what he’s saying. He stops to think. “The school year has already started, so she’ll be starting school when? In 2014? Just before her 12th birthday.”

Tom’s heart clenches. Twelve years? He can’t wait that long for her. “That’s too much time. I need her _now_. What if something happens to her? I won’t be there to protect her.” Another round of panic, with a new hint of rage, flares at the thought of someone hurting what’s his. He’ll kill anyone who tries to harm her. 

“Nothing will happen to her,” Abraxas stresses. “You know that you’re supposed to meet her at Hogwarts. If that’s when you meet, then you know she’s going to be fine.”

Tom visibly relaxes. Abraxas is right. If he’s to meet her at Hogwarts, then she’ll be fine while they’re apart. This knowledge helps him calm down, his talons shrinking back down to his normal fingers. Tom’s head falls and he sighs, “You’re right. I’ll just have to wait for her to come to me.” 

Abraxas settles his hand on Tom’s shoulder. “I know it’s going to be hard, but now you know she’s here. You know when you’re going to finally see her. The end is in sight.” 

Tom smiles softly at the thought of finally seeing her for the first time. His stomach tightens in excitement. He’ll _finally_ get to meet his mate. Now that he has a plan in place, he nods at Abraxas and starts to say his goodbyes. He needs to get back for his next class now that he’s not going to rush off in a mad search. All he needs is Dumbledore breathing down his back more than he already does. 

Abraxas walks him back to the floo and steps back while Tom steps inside. “It looks like Lucius and Narcissa are going to be having a little one of their own soon. That means they should be starting school the same year as your mate. She can count on having a close friend in them.” 

Tom congratulates his old friend and then shouts out his destination. He steps out of his floo into his personal quarters with a smile. Now, he finally has something to look forward to.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter is here!!! Thank you to everyone who read, followed, and favorited this story! I can’t even begin to explain how much my confidence in this story has been lifted by all of your comments and support. Everyone is so sweet and I’m so happy that so many people are excited for this story! 
> 
> This chapter is back in the past and gives a little background into Tom. There’s a tiny bit of French in this chapter, and please excuse me if it’s totally wrong. Blame Google Translate, thank you. Hermione will finally make her way into this story in the next chapter. I have it written out, but I want to take some time away from it and come back to edit it with a fresh mind. 
> 
> Again, thank you to everyone who’s following this! If anyone has any questions, please let me know! I’m going to be answering some things throughout the story, and if I feel like it’s something that needs pointed out, but not necessarily written into the story, I’ll mention it in the notes. Without further ado, let’s get started!

_December 30th, 1946_

The annual Malfoy End of the Year party is still going strong, despite the late hour. It’s 11:30 at night and Tom’s had about all he can handle of socializing. It’s been a long night of watching superficial purebloods flaunt their wealth and position. While interacting with those imbeciles darkens his mood, he knows that he needs their support if he ever wants a future in the Ministry. 

He looks around the room for Abraxas to let him know he’s leaving. He never saw the appeal of making friends, or rather, he simply never cared to – his loyal Knights of Walpurgis were enough for him. However, Abraxas, being his only follower that he could tolerate to converse with for more than five minutes, ended up being the closest thing to a friend he’s ever had. 

After he finds Abraxas, he retires up to his room for the night. He’s been living in Malfoy Manor ever since a month after he left Hogwarts two and a half years ago. After graduation, Tom started working in Borgin and Burkes, and he was staying in a small, dingy apartment by himself. When Abraxas finally saw his living situation, he implored his parents to invite Tom to stay with them until he could find more _acceptable_ living quarters. Horrified at the thought of charismatic and kind Tom Riddle living in such a state, they insisted on Tom quitting his job and coming to stay in the Manor. Disinclined to accept any form of charity, he started to refuse. However, Mr. Malfoy convinced him to accept by vowing to help in whatever way he could to get Tom into the Ministry. 

As he prepares for bed, he remembers that his 20th birthday is tomorrow. His birthday has always been inconsequential in his life; however, to his immense displeasure, Mrs. Malfoy has made it her mission to change that. Although the Malfoy’s End of the Year Party is usually on his actual birthday, New Year’s Eve, they decided to have it a year early this year due to Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy leaving for a vacation to Spain in the morning. He smirks at the thought. Despite being adamant about not wanting any special attention, Mrs. Malfoy always makes a spectacle of his birthday during the party. This year, to Tom’s utter delight, she was unable to. He lays down to sleep, content that he doesn’t have to suffer through people he doesn’t know or care about expressing their false joy over his birthday this year. He falls asleep easily with the thought that his 20th birthday will be quite uneventful. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As the clock strikes midnight, Tom gasps awake. He feels like every single atom in his body is on fire. He’s never felt pain this intense. _This must be how my followers feel when I_ Crucio _them,_ he thinks. He screams out at the pain, and once he starts screaming, he can’t seem to stop. He claws at his chest, trying to put out the raging fire inside of it. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Abraxas, who was heading to his own room to retire for the night, hears Tom’s screams and busts through his door. He startles at the sight that greets him. Tom is flailing in his bed, hands tearing through his shirt at his chest. “TOM!” He yells as he runs to his friend’s side. He tries to rip Tom’s hands away from his chest and gasps as he sees bloody claw marks covering his torso. He gapes as he looks at Tom’s hands and sees talons instead of fingers. “Mippy!”

A pop, and then, “Yes, sir, Mippy is here! What can Mippy be doing to serve?” Mippy, Abraxas’s personal House Elf, materializes.

He jerks his head in her direction. “Mippy, go get my father. Now! Hurry up,” he shouts to her. 

Mippy quickly apparates away and comes back a second later with Lord Malfoy. “What is the meaning of th—,” Mr. Malfoy gasps at the scene in front of him. He rushes to Abraxas’s side to help him hold Tom down. Tom’s screams start to morph into screeches, like a bird, and he starts thrashing harder. “Why didn’t you tell me Tom was part Veela?” Mr. Malfoy questions his son while they work harder to hold down the frantic boy in front of them. 

Abraxas’s eyes widen. “Part Veela? What do you mean? Tom’s not part Veela,” he exclaims, crying out as one of Tom’s talons grazes his arm. 

His father scoffs. “Well, clearly he is. Look at him! You know our Veela family history. You’ve heard the stories. You know what a Veela transformation looks like, and this is it. Today is his 20th birthday, that’s when the transformation takes place.” The Malfoys have had Veela blood in their bloodline for as long as they could remember. It’s well-known that that’s where they get their characteristic white blonde hair and beautiful features. Stories about their Veela ancestors are told to all of the Malfoy children when they’re young. They all know what a transformation is like just in case they take on Veela traits and transform themselves. They’re well-prepared for their possible future. “We’ll have to restrain him and let him ride out the transformation. There’s nothing we can do to help him through this besides watch over him and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself more.” 

Abraxas is stunned. Tom has never mentioned anything about being part Veela, and he wonders if he even knows. Abraxas and his father restrain Tom, and Abraxas prepares to sit with him for the rest of the night.

His father turns to return to the party. He stops with his hand on the door knob and glances back to his son. “He’ll need you when he wakes up, son. This transformation is going to take a lot of his mental and physical strength.” Eyes heavy with exhaustion, Abraxas nods in understanding. “Have Mippy come get me if you need me.” Mr. Malfoy opens the door and leaves to go back to his wife and guests. 

Mippy levitates a chair over to the bed and Abraxas settles there with a sigh. He prepares himself for what he’s going to tell his friend when he wakes up from this nightmare. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tom wakes up slowly to the sound of birds chirping and the feel of sunlight shining through the windows. It was too cheery of a morning for how his body felt. It was like he had been thrown off a cliff, broken every bone in his body, healed them, then broken them all over again. He opens his eyes and groans as he slowly tries to sit up. 

“Wait a minute. Be careful.” Abraxas appears beside him and gently pushes him back down with a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot these last few hours. You need to relax and build your strength back up.”

“What happened last night?” He asks Abraxas. The last thing he remember is leaving the party and going to bed. Abraxas hesitates and looks away from him. Tom narrows his eyes. “Abraxas,” he hisses. “ _Tell me what happened_.”

Abraxas sighs and turns to finally look at him. “You transformed last night.”

Tom’s brows furrow in confusion. “Transformed? What are you talking about?”

“You’re part Veela, Tom. Veelas fully transform on their 20th birthday. That’s what you went through last night and that’s why you feel so weak this morning.” He says. 

Suddenly, Tom remembers back when he was researching his family. He recalls that he did read that there was Veela blood in his ancestry, but that only the females exhibited Veela traits. “That’s impossible. Veelas are female, not male. I can’t be a Veela,” Tom stresses, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Abraxas sighs. “That’s just a myth. Veelas are in my bloodline too, and it’s rare, but there have been cases of male Malfoys taking on Veela traits.” Abraxas waits for Tom to explode. He knows that Tom doesn’t like surprises, and this is one hell of a surprise.

Shockingly, Tom just sighs, “I need all the books in the Manor’s library on Veelas. If this is what I am, then I want to know everything about it.”

“Of course, Tom,” Abraxas says. He calls for Mippy to bring them any book that mentions Veelas, and he sits down with Tom and they set out to research everything they can.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It’s been a month since his Veela transformation. In the last few weeks, Tom and Abraxas have read into everything they could find on Veelas. Mr. Malfoy has been an extra help with anything they can’t find in books. While he feels more prepared for this life with the knowledge he now has, he has been living with a feeling of emptiness and longing ever since he first woke up a month ago. Through his research and after questioning Mr. Malfoy, he knows that this feeling comes from his Veela side craving its mate. He tried to be upset upon learning he now had a soulmate that he was supposed to take care of and protect – another person other than himself to think of was never something he wanted –, but his Veela side won’t let him be upset about _her._ Whoever she is. He doesn’t know her, and he doesn’t know how to find her, but he’s starting to realize that if he doesn’t start actively trying to find her soon, he’s going to go insane. 

Mr. Malfoy knows of a Seer who specializes in Veelas that lives in Paris. He set up Tom with a portkey to find her and meet with her. She’s located in what seems to be Paris’s own version of Knockturn Alley, in a small back room inside of a derelict bar. The portkey took him straight to his location, and he looks around the small, crowded alley. A ragged looking woman dressed in not nearly enough clothing for the cold temperature looks his way as he pops into view. She smiles seductively and sashays over to him. “Salut, beauté. Voulez-vous de la compagnie?” Tom’s eyes flash as he sharply turns his head to glare at her. The woman flinches away and jerks back the hand she had held out to grab at his arm. “Désolé, monsieur,” she whispers as she bows her head and slowly walks away. 

Tom turns back to the bar and walks over to enter. As he steps through the door, he looks around at its patrons. He sniffs in distaste. He only needs one glance at these people to know that they are weak and worthless – not worth his time. No one glances his way as he walks toward the back of the bar in the direction of the only other door in the room. The door creaks as he opens it and saunters through without knocking, announcing his presence to the one person occupying the room.

He walks into the room and sees an old woman sitting behind a small oak desk. She has long gray hair braided down her back and she’s wearing clothing fit more for a gypsy than a witch. Without looking up from the papers in front of her, she begins to speak. “Hello, Tom. I’ve been waiting for you.”

He’s not surprised she knew he was coming, given the nature of what she is. This actually works in his favor. This way, they can get straight to business and avoid all unnecessary introductions. He strides up to the desk and places his hands on the chair sitting across from it. “Hello,” he says. “Let’s get right to the point: I need to know where my mate is, and you’re going to tell me.”

“Not one for pleasantries I see.” The Seer smiles and leans forward as she finally looks up at him. “Okay then, come here. Let’s see what we can do to find her.” He steps around the chair and settles down into it. “I need to do a spell to help me see her, and I’m going to need a drop of your blood. Hold out your hand.” 

He holds out his hand, and the Seer grabs it as she pulls out her wand. She makes a small incision and lets the blood pool into his palm. Then, she waves her wand over his hand and says a small incantation. A soft blue light glows over his palm and she gasps and pulls away. 

“What is it? Where is she? Is something wrong with her?” He’s terrified that something is wrong. That he’s too late and something has happened to _her_ and that he wasn’t there to protect her. “TELL ME,” he yells, slamming his fists down onto the desk and leaning closer to her. His eyes open wide and start to glow an eerie silver.

The Seer jumps back and hesitates. A low growl starts to rumble in Tom’s throat, and the Seer flinches as she finally reveals, “She’s nowhere.”

His fists clench. “Nowhere? How can she be _nowhere_? What do you mean?” He demands.

“She’s nowhere. She has yet to be born.”

“She WHAT?” He feels a sudden blinding rage. He jumps up and throws the desk to the side. The Seer yelps as he casts an _Incarcerous_ and binds her to the wall behind her. _My mate_ has _to be alive. I can’t live without her. I need her_ now. “What do you mean she hasn’t been born yet? That can’t be _possible_ ,” he stresses. 

Terrified, the Seer quickly says, “But it is. She has yet to be born—” She gasps as Tom tightens the bonds around her. Breathless, she gasps out, “But she will be! I’m unable to see exactly when, but I do know that it will be many years from now. Decades even. And that you will also meet her at Hogwarts.” 

_Decades?!_ Enraged, he storms over to where the Seer is being held. “How is it possible that she won’t be born for decades? I’ll be years older than her! How can I protect her if I’m an old man?” 

“But you won’t be an old man,” she cries out. “When a Veela is born before their mate, they stop aging until their mate is born and they are of the same age. This guarantees that the Veela and their mate will be able to spend as long of a life together as possible, and this also increases the time they can procreate.” 

It takes a minute for her words to sink in, but when they finally do, he relaxes and releases his hold on her, her spent body crashing to the floor. “I’ll meet her at Hogwarts? Decades from now?” He repeats from above her. 

Hands holding her weak body up from the floor, the Seer gasps in relief. “Yes. It is destined that you shall meet her at Hogwarts.” 

“Is there anything else I need to know?” He asks.

She looks up at him and intently holds his stare. “You cannot change fate,” she declares. “You may feel when she is born, but do not go searching for her. You will meet her at Hogwarts, nowhere else.”

He nods, and with this new information, he turns to the door, leaving the old woman panting on the floor. He walks through the bar, ignoring the terrified stares of the feeble patrons. He exits the bar and pulls out the portkey to make his way back to Malfoy Manor. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As he walks through the entrance into the Manor, he calls out to Mippy to ask where Abraxas is. 

“Young Master is being in the library, sir,” Mippy says.

He nods to her and heads that way. As he walks in, he quickly spots Abraxas seated in one of the many lounge chairs, reading a large tome. He looks up as Tom walks toward him. 

He closes his book and sets it down on the table beside him. “So, how did it go?” He asks. 

Tom decides to get right to the point. “She hasn’t been born yet.” 

“She hasn’t been born?” He exclaims. _Good to know he wasn’t the only one surprised._

He starts to pace. “She hasn’t. The Seer said she won’t be born for decades.” Seeing the question on his face, Tom clarifies, “She said that I’ll stop aging and won’t start again until she’s born and reaches the same age as I am now.” Understanding and surprise lights in Abraxas’s eyes. Tom goes on to the most important part. “She also said that I’ll meet her at Hogwarts. I need to find out how that’s going to happen.” 

Abraxas hums in thought. “Father mentioned a few days ago that the last Hogwarts board meeting was about needing a new Defense Against the Darks Arts professor. Merrythought is finally retiring. You should apply for that position. That would guarantee that you’ll be at the school whenever she starts there. You’re NEWT grades were fantastic. They have no reason to not hire you for the position.” 

Tom scowls. “That might work, if it wasn’t for Dumbledore. That old tosser would never let me back into the school. Especially to teach. He’ll be whispering into Dippet’s ear to reject my application as soon as it reaches his desk. He’s never trusted me.” _Not that he’s wrong not to_ , he thinks. It’s no secret that Professor Dumbledore doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him. He doesn’t see how he’ll be able to get into the school, especially to be hired on as a _professor_ , for as long as Dumbledore is there.

“Well, it won’t hurt to try. Father will put in a good word for you, too. Apply, and then if it’s rejected, we’ll work from there,” Abraxas reasons. 

Resigned and knowing he has no other choice, he nods and agrees to at least try and apply for the position. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_Dear Mr. Riddle,_

_I have received your application for the position of Defense Against the Darks Professor, and I regret to inform you that, although your NEWTS marks were impressive, I have already decided on other candidates to interview for this position._

_Thank you for your interest, and please apply again if a position opens up in the future._

_Best,_  
_Headmaster Dippet_

Tom crumples the letter in his hands and throws it into the fire. His eyes flash silver. _That arsehole, Dumbledore, can’t keep me away from_ my mate. _I’ll kill him before I let that happen._ Enraged and irrational in his anger, he apparates just outside of Hogwart’s wards. It’s late afternoon on a Wednesday, and classes just let out for the day. As he enters the castle, students scurry out of his way as he stalks through the halls. He’s always careful to maintain a calm outward persona, no matter what he’s feeling on the inside, but he’s too angry right now to be able to conceal it. He bypasses the Headmaster’s office and heads straight to Dumbledore’s. He knows he’s the reason he’s being kept from his mate. He wandlessly slams open the office door and strides angrily inside. 

Dumbledore is standing by the fireplace in his office. He glances up at Tom’s abrupt entrance. “Hello, Tom. How can I help you?” Dumbledore, calm and collected as ever, asks him. His placid attitude angers Tom further.

“You can’t keep me from her,” he spits out at him.

Dumbledore’s brow furrows in confusion. “And who would you be referring to, Tom?” 

“ _My mate._ You can’t keep me from her! I need to be here. I _have_ to be here when it’s time,” he snaps. A glass dish full of lemon drops explodes on a shelf, raining candy over the floor. The only sign that Dumbledore even noticed is the slight twitch of his eyes in that direction. 

“Your mate?” Tom thinks this is the first time since the day he met Dumbledore that he’s seen him startled. If he wasn’t so angry, he might have been happy to shock the old man. 

“Yes, my mate. I’m supposed to meet her here, but you are keeping me away from her!” He can feel his talons start to stretch out from his fingers, his voice is starting to gain a screeching quality to it, and he knows his eyes are starting to flash a silvery hue. 

Dumbledore pauses to examine him. First his eyes, then down to his hands. Suddenly, Dumbledore’s eyes start to twinkle, and he starts to smile. “Tom,” he says gently, “If I didn’t know any better, I would guess that you’re a Veela.” 

He snarls. “Yes, you old fool, I am a Veela. And I have a mate. And _you’re_ keeping her from me!” His talons are digging into his palms, blood starting to slowly drip onto the floor. 

“Slow down, Tom. Sit down and explain to me exactly what’s going on,” he says. 

He breathes deeply and tries to calm down. He won’t be able to reason with anyone in this state, he knows. He slowly relaxes and sits in the chair in front of the desk, and Dumbledore glides over to sit across from him. He begins to explain how he went through his transformation over a month ago, and he ends with his conversation with the Seer. Dumbledore’s smile gets wider throughout his tale. Tom should have known that a sob story like this would appeal to the old man. “I need to be here when she starts school. It’s my only chance at finding her,” he reasons with him. 

Tom internally rolls his eyes as that infernal twinkle starts to shine in Dumbledore’s eyes. “Tom, I wish you would have come to me right away with this. Of course you need to be here so you can meet your mate. Let’s go to Headmaster Dippet’s office right away and tell him the situation. It wouldn’t be right for us to stand in the way of destiny.” Dumbledore stands and ushers Tom to the door. They step into the hall and make their way to Dippet’s office. 

Reaching the Headmaster’s office, Dumbledore knocks and they enter when they hear a soft command to come in. When they enter, Dippet’s eyes widen as he takes in Professor Dumbledore and Tom Riddle standing in his doorway. “Albus. Mr. Riddle. Is there something I can help you with?”

Dumbledore explains the situation to the Headmaster and persuades him to hire Tom for the Defense position. Dippet has Tom sign all the necessary paperwork and starts him on the process of being hired into the school. As Tom takes his leave, a smirk starts to form on his face. With this situation dealt with, he’s one step closer to meeting his mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French Translations:
> 
> Salut, beauté. Voulez-vous de la compagnie? – Hello, handsome. Would you like some company?
> 
> Désolé, monsieur – Sorry, sir.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo another update! Tom and Hermione get to be in the same room finally in this one!  
> Thank you to everyone who has read, favorited, followed, and commented! It means so much to me!   
> Enjoy!

_August 2nd, 2014_

Hermione wakes to the clanging of pans and the smell of bacon. Slowly blinking awake, she stretches out her body that’s tense from sleep. She jumps out of bed, making her way down to the kitchen. Her mother, Jean Granger, is making breakfast while her father, Richard Granger, is reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. It’s a welcoming sight, and Hermione smiles wide. “Good morning!”

“Good morning, dear,” her parents reply with answering smiles. 

“Are you hungry? I’m making bacon and eggs,” her mother asks.

“Famished! That sounds delicious. Would you like any help?” 

“That would be lovely, dear. Come over and help me scramble up the eggs.” As Hermione walks over to help her mother, a knock sounds at the door. Jean turns her head over her shoulder. “Richard, be a dear and answer the door, please,” Jean smiles sweetly at her husband. 

Richard hums and sets down his newspaper. “Of course, sweetheart.” He ruffles Hermione’s hair as he walks by, and she slaps his hand away with a giggle. 

Hermione perks up her ears to listen to her father at the door while she begins to scramble the eggs. She hears murmuring and what sounds like a woman’s voice. They’re speaking too quietly, and she can’t quite make out what they’re saying. 

“Jean. Hermione. Would you come in here, please?” Richard calls out to them. Jean and Hermione give each other a questioning look, then shrug and head towards the living room where the woman and her father must have moved to. As Hermione steps into view, she sees a tall, older woman. She squints her eyes as she takes in the most peculiar set of clothes. She’s wearing a long black dress with what looks like a green coat over it; however, the coat reaches all the way to the floor and has wide flowing sleeves that hang down her sides. Hermione’s never seen anything like it before. She continues to walk up to the strange woman and her father. The woman’s stare moves to her and her strict looking face relaxes into a small, knowing smile. 

“Hello,” the woman says in a thick Scottish accent. “My name is Minerva McGonagall. I have something important to discuss with all of you. It might be best to sit down.” Confused, Hermione sits on the couch with her parents, and Ms. McGonagall sits in the chair across from them. “Let’s get right to it, then. Usually best to rip it off like a band aid.” She clasps her hands together and sits up straight. “I’m a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione here is a witch, and she’s been invited to attend school with us.” She smiles at Hermione again.

“A witch?!” Hermione’s parents both gasp. 

“That doesn’t make any sense! Magic doesn’t exist.” Hermione turns to her mother as she voices her incredulity. Her father seems to be speechless. 

“Magic does exist,” McGonagall says. “Has Hermione ever done anything that you couldn’t explain? Maybe when she was angry or sad?” McGonagall could tell by the looks on their faces that she had. “That was magic. Young magical children cannot yet control their powers, so they have magical outbursts in times of great emotion.”

“There has to be some explanation besides magic. That’s just outrageous! Magic can’t possibly exist.” Her father finally finds his voice, her mother nodding along in agreement. 

“Let me prove it to you.” McGonagall pulls out a long wooden stick from her sleeve. “ _Lumos_.” Hermione and her parents gasp as a bright light shines from the end of the stick. She says _Nox_ and the light disappears. “This is just a small example of what Hermione can do with proper training. She must go to Hogwarts and learn magic. It’s dangerous for magical children to never learn how to control their powers.”

Jean just stares, speechless, but Richard turns to Hermione. “Hermione dear, you haven’t said anything. Are you okay?” 

Hermione is shocked. While all children secretly hope that magic is real, they never expect it to _actually_ be real. She’s known all her life that there was something different about her. Sometimes when she’s mad, or sad, things she can’t explain happen. Like one time when she was young, her mother told her she couldn’t eat a cookie before dinner and a glass exploded when she started to cry. Once, she heard a group of girls making fun of her hair at school, and they all tripped and fell when they turned to walk away. As she gives herself a minute to reflect on this news, her shock turns to elation. _Finally_ , there’s a reason for why she’s so different, and why she can never seem to make friends at school. She has magic. She turns to answer her father, “We all knew there was something different about me. It makes sense now.” She smiles wide. “I’m a _witch_.”

Her parents turn to look at each other. After what feels like forever to Hermione, her mother sighs and nods. Her father turns back to Professor McGonagall. “Tell us more about this school. Hogwarts, you said?”

McGonagall reaches into her pocket and pulls out a letter. “Here is Hermione’s official Hogwarts letter. Inside, you’ll find all the information you’ll need, including a list of school supplies. I’ll be back in two weeks to take you to Diagon Alley and help you pick up everything you’ll need.” McGonagall hands the letter off to Richard. They all stand and head back to the front door. Before she leaves, McGonagall turns back to Hermione. “I very much look forward to having you in class, Miss Granger. If you have any questions, or you need anything, please come to me.” Hermione nods in understanding and they all say their farewells. 

As Hermione goes to bed later that night, she can’t contain her excitement. Only four more weeks until she gets to go to Hogwarts. She can’t wait to meet other magical children, and to finally be able to make friends with people like her. And there’s so much more to _learn_. She can’t wait to buy magical books and read all she can of this new world. She snuggles down into bed with a smile, excited for the weeks to come.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_September 1st, 2014_

Hermione steps onto Platform 9 ¾, her smile as wide as it could possibly go. She ushers her parents towards the train, anxious to finally board and be on her way to Hogwarts. 

Two weeks ago, Professor McGonagall came back to their house and took them to Diagon Alley. Their first stop was a magical bank called Gringotts, so that her parents could convert their Muggle money over to wizarding money. Professor McGonagall told them the workers there were _goblins_. The first magical creature she’s seen! She tried to take in all the sights and sounds she could while they were there, but there was simply too much to see in such a short period of time. 

They passed by a shop called _Magical Menagerie_ during their visit, and Professor McGonagall told them that each student was allowed one familiar in the school if they wished. Hermione begged her parents to let her look, and they easily agreed. She ran in and as soon as she stepped through the door, she saw a cat with the cutest scrunched face. She walked up to him and he instantly started rubbing against her hand and purring. The saleswoman told her that he had been in the shop for a long time because nobody wanted him. _Well, I’ll just have to fix that, won’t I?_ After picking out some supplies for him, she left the shop with her new half-Kneazle, Crookshanks. Her favorite store, of course, _had_ to be _Flourish and Blotts_ , a bookstore. She bought all of her required school books, plus some. Her parents smiled at the sight of her rounding the corner with books piled higher than she could carry. The shopkeeper suggested she buy _Hogwarts: A History_ – a book all about the school. Of course, she’s read it cover to cover three times now in the last two weeks. 

“Now, I want you to write at least once a week, but absolutely feel free to write more! Oh, I can’t believe my baby is going off to school all alone.” Her mother pulls her into her arms and squeezes her tight as she starts to sniffle. 

“Mum, I’ll be fine! I’ll write as often as I can. I have to go, or I’m going to miss the train!” She hugs her mother quickly, then gently pushes against her when she refuses to let go. 

“Come now, Jean. The girl’s got to go.” Her father helps untangle her from her mother’s arms. “Have fun, sweetie. We’ll see you at Christmas, alright?” He bends down to place a quick kiss on the top of her head. As he steps back, he wraps his arms around Jean to keep her from grabbing at Hermione again. 

Hermione agrees and quickly says her goodbyes and _I love you’s_ to her parents and boards the Hogwarts Express. She’s walking down the narrow aisle in search of an empty compartment when a boy that looks about her age comes barreling out of one. She gasps and jumps back so he doesn’t run into her. 

“So sorry!” The boy says. He’s breathing heavily and looking around frantically. “You wouldn’t have happened to see a toad around here, would you?”

“A toad?” Hermione questions. 

“His name’s Trevor and I can’t find him! Oh, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I hope he’s not hurt. I knew I shouldn’t have brought him along. Nan was right, I should’ve left him at home.” He continues to ramble on in distress, hands pulling tight on the ends of his hair. Hermione’s worried he’s going to send himself into a panic attack. 

She holds her hands up in front of him. “Slow down,” Hermione interrupts. “I’ll help you look for him. Where was the last place you saw him?” _All wizards better not be this nervous_ , she hopes. 

“Thank you so much! He looked so cooped up and lonely, so I let him out of his cage in my compartment to jump around, but someone opened the door and he got out. I thought I saw him go this way.” He points down the aisle and they start heading in that direction. “Name’s Neville, by the way. Neville Longbottom. What’s yours?”

“Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you.” She holds out her hand and he reaches forward to shake it. “Now, let’s go find this toad.”

Together they walk throughout the train, searching every corner and compartment for Neville’s toad, Trevor. Hermione just shut one compartment door with no luck and skips over to the next one. Inside, she sees two other boys around her age: one with black hair and glasses, and the other with bright red hair. “Hello, have either of you seen a toad?” Both boys give her a confused look. “A boy called Neville lost his toad. I’m helping him look for it. Have you seen one around here?”

Both boys shake their head no. Hermione sighs and turns to leave, but turns back to the red haired boy. “Do you know you have a bit of dirt on your nose?” She taps the side of her own nose. “Just right there.” The boy lifts his hand up to his nose as Hermione continues on to the next compartment. 

Three compartments later, Neville comes bounding in from the next car, missing toad in his hands. “I found him!” He cheers. “He was hiding under a bench just through there.” He points back in the direction he just came from. 

Hermione grins. “Oh, good! I’m so happy you found him!” 

“Thank you so much for helping me, Hermione. No one else cared, but you were really nice.” Neville looks down bashfully. 

“Absolutely. I’m happy to help, Neville.” She rests her hand on his shoulder and gives him a big smile. “We should probably go change into our uniforms now. I expect we’ll be arriving soon.” Neville agrees and they both run off to quickly change.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As the train finally stops, Hermione and Neville step off the train with the rest of the students. They stare on in awe at the breathtaking castle off in the distance. It’s bigger than Hermione imagined. Tall columns and colossal towers. The castle looks like it’s built straight into the side of the cliff. It’s magnificent and more amazing than Hermione could have ever dreamed it could be.

“Alright then, first years! This way, please! Come on, then. First years on the side! First years, come on!” Hermione gapes as the biggest man she’s ever seen calls out for all the first years to line up. “Alright, this way to the boats. Follow me.” She follows along with the group of first years and they all start loading into boats along the water. Once everyone is settled, the boats start moving on their own towards the castle. 

When they reach land, everyone is ushered out of the boats and through an entrance way. They’re led up a set of stairs, where Professor McGonagall is waiting at the top. “Welcome to Hogwarts. In just a moment, you’ll walk through those doors and join your fellow classmates. However, you must be sorted before you can take your seats.” She glances between all the students. “The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now while you’re here, your house will be like your family. When you’re good, you’ll be awarded points. Break the rules, and you’ll lose points. The house with the most points by the end of the year will win the House Cup. The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily.” 

As Professor McGonagall walks away, the students around her start to talk amongst themselves. Hermione can see that some of the students clearly know each other already. The large group starts to separate into smaller groups of people. She turns to Neville to talk with him while they wait. 

A few minutes pass, and then the doors open and they’re steered into what Hermione knows is the Great Hall. Reading about this room, she knew that it would be grand and beautiful, but actually seeing it in person is amazing. She gasps as she sets her eyes on the enchanted ceiling that’s showing the beautiful night sky. Then, her eyes get wide as she finally takes in all there is around her: four grand tables, hundreds of students, floating candles, and a large table at the front that’s for the professors. As they start lining up near the platform the staff table is on, a group of tall boys step in front of her, blocking her view. She harrumphs and bends down so she can see between them. 

McGonagall steps onto the platform and turns to address them. “The sorting will start in just a moment. Headmaster Dumbledore would like to say a few words first.” Hermione looks towards the center of the table as an imposing older man with a long gray beard stands up to speak.

“Welcome all new and returning students to Hogwarts. I’d like to make a start of term reminder: the dark forest is forbidden for all students to enter. Anyone caught doing so, will be punished accordingly.” He looks around the hall and his eyes seem to land intently on a pair of redheaded twins before he continues to look on. “Thank you.” He settles back into his seat, resting his hands across his stomach. 

They all turn back to McGonagall as she lifts a scroll and begins to speak. “When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses.” She holds up the Sorting Hat and starts reading off from the scroll. “Hannah Abbot.” A girl near the front of the line nervously walks up to the platform and sits on the stool. McGonagall places the Hat on her head and immediately a face forms from the wrinkles in the leather. “ _Hmmm, okay. Alright. Yes. HUFFLEPUFF!_ ” The Hufflepuff table cheers while Hannah jumps off the stool and walks over to sit with her new housemates. “Susan Bones.” 

As McGonagall continues to call out each student’s name to be sorted, Hermione takes the time to look over her new professors. As she glances along the table, she sees an assortment of characters. A tall woman with poufy hair and glasses that make her eyes look almost cartoonish. A small man who looks like the goblins that she met at Gringotts. Oh, a _ghost_! A greasy and mean looking man with a cat seated next to him. A dark-haired man with a hooked nose wearing all black and sporting a scowl on his face. A darkly beautiful man next to him that sat with an elegant pose, had a sharp jawline, full brown hair that looked soft to touch, and deep green eyes. Her chest tightens as her eyes land on him. She feels a pull to this stranger that she doesn’t understand, like something inside of her is telling her that she needs to go to him and to trust him. 

She shakes her head, ridding herself of this nonsense. _He’s just cute. That doesn’t mean you need to run up to him, Hermione_ , she berates herself. She tries to focus back on the sorting, but she can’t help but to keep glancing back at him. She notices that he’s looking over all of the first years, but unlike the other professors who are staring in polite curiosity, he seems to be searching for someone. She starts to wonder if he’s looking for someone he knows when she hears her name being called. “Hermione Granger!” 

Suddenly nervous, she drops her head and begins whispering to herself, “Oh no. Okay. Relax.” She slowly walks up to the platform and sits on the stool. McGonagall places the Sorting Hat on her head, and she jumps as she hears the Hat start to whisper in her mind. _Let’s see what we have here. Ah, a brilliant mind. A little bit of courage there, too. Ohhh, it seems as if fate has great things in store for you, girl. In due time, in due time. Looks like it’s got to be “GRYFFINDOR!_ ” Hermione beams as the Hat is removed and she leaps off the stool. She turns to head off the platform towards the cheering Gryffindor table when her eyes unexpectantly lock onto the mysterious professor’s gaze. He’s staring intently at her with a heated emotion that she can’t decipher. Hermione gasps and drops his gaze, staggering over to sit with the other first year Gryffindors. She sits next to the twins from earlier and smiles distractedly as they introduce themselves as Fred and George Weasley. She tries to not look the man’s way, but she finds herself doing so unconsciously. Every time her eyes meet his, he’s staring right back. 

The rest of the first years are quickly sorted, many ending up in Gryffindor: Neville and the boys she met on the train, who she learns are called Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, included. Once everyone is seated, Headmaster Dumbledore stands and announces, “Let the feast begin!” An assortment of food magically appears on the tables amid gasps of surprise and delight. 

As everyone starts to eat, the people around her begin to introduce themselves to each other. Hermione sits quietly and listens to everyone around her talk, trying to avoid looking towards the staff table again. She turns towards the twins as she hears them start giving advice about the professors to the other first years around her. 

“You’ve gotta watch out for good ole Filch now.” Fred starts.

“He gets off on punishing students. Watch out for his cat, Mrs. Norris, too. She looks cuddly, but she’ll rat you out to him if she catches you out after curfew.” George finishes. She notices that they seem to constantly finish each other’s sentences. She has to pay close attention so she can catch everything they’re saying. “See that greasy git with the big nose up there?” George points up to the head table, right to the man in black beside the professor who’s _still_ staring at her, she notices. She blushes and quickly turns back to Fred, who speaks next. 

“That there’s Snape. Potions professor. He’s a right git, that one is. He’s Slytherin’s Head of House, and he only likes them. He _especially_ hates Gryffindors. He’ll take points just for breathing too loud.” 

The perky blonde girl beside her, who introduced herself as Lavender Brown earlier, turns away from taking in Professor Snape and asks the twins, “What about the man next to him? Who’s he? He’s so cute!” All the other girls giggle and announce their agreement. Hermione rolls her eyes at their girlish squeals but leans in closer to hear about the man who’s _still_ staring at her. 

“Oi, that’s Professor Riddle. He teaches Defense Against the Darks Arts.” 

“Been here for years, he has. He started back in 1947.” 

“1947?” Parvati Patil gasps. Hermione remembers that she has a twin sister, but she was sorted into Ravenclaw. “But he looks like he’s young enough to be a student.”

“He doesn’t age. Been 20 years old for years now. Story goes that after he was here for about 10 years and students started noticing he wasn’t aging, there were rumors that he was a vampire. This put all the students on edge…”

“Rightfully so, of course.”

“… So, some students told their parents, and their parents came in to complain and demanded he be fired because it was too dangerous to have a vampire teaching their children.” 

“But they were wrong, yeah? He wasn’t a vampire. So that he could keep his job, Riddle finally told all the parents the truth. He’s actually a Veela, and he doesn’t age because his mate hasn’t been born yet.”

“Rumor is that he teaches here because he’s waiting for his mate to show up.”

“Oh, how absolutely sweet!” Lavender and the other girls all had hearts in their eyes while Hermione was looking on in confusion. 

“What’s a Veela?” Hermione asks.

“What’s a Veela? Only the most beautiful creatures alive!” Lavender gasps out her shock that Hermione doesn’t know this clearly very important information. Hermione internally rolls her eyes. “They’re usually only females, so a male Veela is very rare. They look like humans, but they can morph into bird-like creatures with talons and wings and beaks, especially when they’re angry. Each Veela has a soulmate that’s destined for them, and their purpose in life is to love and protect their mate. It’s so romantic.” Lavender and the other girls sigh dreamily. 

Hermione scoffs and ignores the rest of the conversation. _What a waste of time. It sounds like a fairytale for children._ She glances back up Professor Riddle’s way and catches his eyes again. She quickly looks away and furrows her brow. _Why is he staring at me? Have I done something wrong?_ As she tries to think of what she could have possibly done to earn his attention, Professor McGonagall stands and taps on her glass. “Prefects, please show your first years to the dorms. Goodnight everyone, and we’ll see you tomorrow morning for your first day of classes.”

One of the Gryffindor prefects, Percy Weasley – how many Weasleys _are there?_ –, starts to usher the Gryffindor first years out of the Great Hall. As she stands with the rest of her peers, she chances one more glance back towards Professor Riddle and meets his eye yet again. He looks as if he’s about to stand, but Professor Snape puts a hand on his shoulder and pushes him back down. Hermione continues to stare at what appears to be a heated conversation and sees Professor Riddle look her way one more time before she passes through the doors into the entrance hall and out of his sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Sorry if the bit with McGonagall and Hermione’s letter wasn’t very interesting. I have absolutely no idea how they would break that news to a muggleborn and their parents, so I tried as best as I could. I’ll try to get the next update out as soon as I can!


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Sorry for the wait, but I’m already getting writer’s block for this. I’m hoping once I make it through her younger years it’ll be easier to write! 
> 
> I’d just like to reaffirm now that there will be NO underage themes in this story! Nothing will happen between Hermione and Tom until she is 17, which is the legal age in the wizarding world. Also, Tom doesn’t view Hermione in any sexual way right now. She’s too young. He only wants to protect her and be around her. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, commenting, etc.!!! Enjoy!

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Tom’s right hand rests on the table in front of him, fingers continuously tapping against it. Below, his foot shakes rhythmically. He sees Severus glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. 

Dumbledore is at the head of the table, droning on about castle issues he couldn’t care less about. “The leaky faucet in the fourth floor boy’s bathroom has been repaired, and the billywig infestation in the Ravenclaw common room has finally been eradicated.” Dumbledore’s voice fades into the background as Tom’s thoughts move to tonight. The students should be arriving within the hour; normally he wouldn’t give a rat’s arse about any of them, but this is the year that _she’s_ finally coming to school. 

His chest tightens as he starts thinking about his mate. His leg starts shaking harder. 

He feels a sharp kick on his leg and jerks around to glare at Severus. He’s glaring right back, eyes darting to where his foot rests under the table. Tom rolls his eyes as he turns back to face the head of the table, but he ceases his jittering. 

Twenty minutes later, the meeting is finally over and they’re released to start heading down to the Great Hall to wait for the students. Tom quickly stands and leaves the room, Severus beside him. 

“You need to calm down.” 

Tom throws him a scowl. “ _Calm down_? How do you expect me to _calm down_? My mate is arriving any minute now. I’m finally going to get to see her after 68 years and you want me to _calm down_?” 

“Precisely,” Severus drawls. “There’s nothing you can do until she gets here. Control yourself.”

Tom’s eyes flash, peering over to the man at his side. “I think you’ve grown too comfortable around me, Severus. It would behoove you to watch your tone.” 

Severus rolls his eyes. “You’ve grown soft in your time here, Tom. You’re not as dark as you used to be.”

Over the years, teaching at Hogwarts and waiting for his mate, he’s lost some of his edge. Though he always believed he wouldn’t, he’s gotten comfortable in his situation. His focus is on his mate. Finding her and protecting her. He hasn’t had time to focus on his previous ideologies in the half century or so. In turn, Severus is right. He has, as he said, grown soft. 

However, unwilling to be viewed as such, Tom turns, pulling out his wand to show Severus just how dark he still can be when he feels a heavy pull deep in his chest. He halts with a gasp, grasping at the area. 

Snape looks his way at the movement. “I take it the train has arrived?” 

Tom nods. His stomach clenches in anticipation and eagerness to _finally_ see his mate. He has to restrain himself from rushing off to the train to find her right away. Dumbledore had already implored that he stay away from the train and wait for his mate to naturally make her way to him. 

They continue into the Great Hall and take their seats at the staff table. The returning students begin to pour into the room and sit at their House tables. The pull in Tom’s chest grows stronger, and he knows his mate is getting closer. His heart pounds as he stares in the direction of the entrance he knows the first years will be coming in through. His hands grip the arms of his chair as the doors open and McGonagall, at last, leads them inside. His eyes dart quickly between each of the students, trying to find her. 

His fingers twitch and his breath starts coming faster as he fails to spot her. _She’s here, I know she’s here. I can’t find her. Where is she, where is she, where is she._ He starts to panic as the sorting begins. He continues to look through all of the students, but she’s not there. _Where is she_?

The next name is called as he continues to fret. “Hermione Granger.” A group of boys move out of the way as a small girl with a heart shaped face, button nose, and wild hair walks up onto the platform. He freezes. His heart clenches and he knows. _My mate. Mine, mine, mine. Hermione_. He finally knows her name, after all these years. 

He takes her in as the Hat is placed on her head, making sure she’s safe and unharmed. After a minute, the Hat bellows, “GRYFFINDOR.” He grimaces. _Well, that’s unfortunate_. Over the years, he assumed that his mate would be sorted into Slytherin, like him. It doesn’t matter much to him which House she’s in – although Gryffindor was at the bottom of his list – but he had settled on personal quarters in the dungeon while under the impression that her dorms would be there. _No matter, I’ll tell Dumbledore I’ll need to be moved closer to Gryffindor Tower_.

As she stands, she turns and they make eye contact. His eyes narrow. _Mine, mine, mine_. He sees her eyes widen, and he feels a flash of irritation when she turns around and walks away from him to sit at the Gryffindor table. He keeps an eye on her as the sorting continues, his irritation fading into affection every time she turns his way. He dimly notices Draco Malfoy being sorted into Slytherin. 

Noticing his obvious staring throughout the meal, Snape leans in close to him. “That’s her, then?” 

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, refusing to look away from her. Irrationally thinking she might disappear. 

He watches as the Weasley twins go back and forth, gesturing towards the staff table. Most likely gossiping to the first years about the professors, as they always do. At one point, he sees the group looking his way while they talked, Hermione joining in at this point in the conversation. _Is she talking about me_? Elation swells in his chest at the thought of any kind of attention from his mate. 

He keeps an eye on her during the rest of the feast. When McGonagall dismisses the first years and Hermione stands to leave, he feels a rush of panic. He’s just found her, she can’t leave yet. She can’t leave _him_. He stands to rush after her when he feels a firm hand on his shoulder pulling him down. A growl forms in his throat. He snaps at Severus, “Let go of me.” 

“No,” he hisses. “Don’t be daft. You can’t just follow after her. You’ll frighten the poor girl.”

He scowls. “I would _never_ —”

“Never intentionally,” Severus briskly interrupts. “But she doesn’t know about you. She hasn’t been waiting for you like you’ve been waiting for her. You need to ease her into it, not accost her in the hall on her first night here. Think about her and how she would feel,” Severus reasons with him. 

Tom sighs and reluctantly settles back into his seat. He turns back to Hermione to see her looking back at him with a furrowed brow, right before she passes through the doors and away from him until tomorrow. 

After all of the students head back to their dormitories, Tom and Severus stand to walk back to the dungeons. They part when Severus retires to his quarters, and Tom continues on to the Slytherin common room. 

He reaches the wall that hides the entrance and says the password, stepping through as it opens for him. It doesn’t take long for him to spot a shock of platinum blonde hair. He makes his way over to the sofas by the fireplace to Draco Malfoy. 

Draco glances up as Blaise Zabini nudges him and nods in Tom’s direction. Those whose families have been close to the Malfoys look on knowingly as Draco walks over to meet with their new professor. 

“Draco,” he greets. 

“Tom.” He grins. “Hello.” 

“I see you made Slytherin. I’m sure your father is very proud.” Tom smirks.

Draco visibly puffs up in pride, nose pointed in the air. “Of course. He would expect nothing less.” Draco’s expression turns serious. He murmurs, “Father told me you would probably be coming to me. Did you find her?” 

Tom glances around the common and casts a quick _Muffliato_ for privacy. He turns back to Draco with a nod. “I did. Her name is Hermione Granger.” 

Draco’s face lightens in recognition. “I remember her sorting. Gryffindor?” Draco throws him an amused look. 

“You’ll treat her no different because of her House,” he commands with a scowl. 

Draco sobers immediately. “I won’t. I know what to do.” 

“Good. It’ll be harder since she’s not in Slytherin like I expected, but nothing has change.”

“Of course, Tom. I’ve been waiting to meet her my whole life. Something as simple as which House she was sorted in won’t change that.”

Tom smiles, grateful for all Malfoys’ undying loyalty. “Very well. Have a good night, Draco. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

Tom makes his way out of the Slytherin common room and continues out of the dungeons and up the stairs to start patrolling the halls. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tom wakes early the next morning. He spent most of the night patrolling – mostly sticking to the high points of the castle. When he finally returned to his quarters to try and get a few hours of sleep, he found himself pacing his room, unable to relax. _I really need to speak to Dumbledore and change rooms_. He finally dozed off early into the morning on account of sheer exhaustion. He glances over to his right at the clock on the wall. _6:37 AM_. He rises out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.

After dressing in black slacks, black jumper, and standard robes, he sets off towards the Great Hall for breakfast. He usually takes his meals in his quarters, but he doesn’t want to miss any opportunity to see his mate. 

He walks into the Great Hall and heads up to the staff table. His eyes dart towards the Gryffindor table as soon as he passes through the doors. No sign of his mate. Disappointed, he turns his gaze back in front of him as he continues walking up to the platform. His eyes widen in surprise at the sight of Severus seated at the table. He acknowledges Severus as he pulls out his chair. “What brings you out of your dungeon and into the presence of others this early in the morning?”

Severus sets down his goblet, swallowing his swig of pumpkin juice. “I would ask you the same, although I think I already know the answer.” 

Tom hums and reaches forward to start loading his plate, keeping his eyes on the entrance all the while. 

Just a few minutes pass until he sees her walk through the doors. Another Gryffindor first year at her side. Longbottom, he thinks is his name. She’s laughing at something the Longbottom boy said, but her laughter cuts off when her eyes meet his. He relaxes at her gaze. His worry dissipating at the sight of her. They hold each other’s gaze until Longbottom nudges her and starts to speak. She rips her eyes from his and turns back to her companion, saying something in reply and then moving towards the Gryffindor table. He shoots a glare at the boy. 

“If looks could kill, I expect that pudgy boy would be sprawled on the floor cold as ice by now.” 

His attention flickers to the man at his side. “One could only hope.” 

Severus rolls his eyes. “I wish I would’ve known your possessiveness would intensify after you finally met her. I would have never spoken to you in that case.”

Ignoring his friend, Tom starts to eat his breakfast, keeping a close watch on Hermione. 

He looks up as the owls swoop in to deliver the morning post. Exclamations of joy resounded around to room as students received letters of congratulations from their parents. He smiles fondly as a letter is dropped in front of Hermione and her face brightens as she opens it. 

Movement as his side brings his attention to Severus standing from his chair. He watches as he walks off to the Slytherin table to start handing out class schedules to the first years – the second years and up received their schedules with their letters over the summer. He glances back towards the Gryffindor table as McGonagall walks over to start handing out her own stack of schedules. As she hands Hermione hers, he makes a note to himself to ask for a copy. 

He teaches DADA to first year Gryffindors and Slytherins Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Today being Tuesday, he’ll get to see her in his second class of the day. 

He watches as she leaves with the Longbottom boy to head for their first class. He stands to make his way to his own classroom for his NEWT level class with the seventh years, wishing for time to go by quickly. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It takes longer than he would like before his seventh years are leaving and the first years are piling into the room. He leans against his desk, arms crossed and eyes on the door. 

The girls that sat with Hermione at the Welcoming Feast walk through the door and start giggling straight away when they see him. He internally rolls his eyes. He’s sure they’ve heard all about him by now. He’s been dealing with students lusting after him and hoping to be the one ever since he had to tell the truth about his true nature or risk being dismissed. 

His attention is brought back to the entrance when Hermione finally steps through the door. He follows her every move as she makes her way further into the room, the Longbottom boy attached to her hip. His annoyance at the boy is forgotten when she takes the seat front and center. Delight swells in his chest. She couldn’t be closer unless she was sitting at his desk with him. He ponders the thought, but shakes his head to clear it away. 

He notices Draco enter with Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott following beside him. He sees Hermione turn and wave towards the boys, each one sending a smile and wave back to her. Tom sends an approving nod Draco’s way. 

As the last of the students pour into the room, he waves his hand and the door slams closed. The chattering of voices ceases at the noise. 

“Good morning, everyone. My name is Professor Riddle, and this is Defense Against the Dark Arts.” He surveys all the students in the room. Best to not make his pointed staring obvious in such a small space. “We’ll start off today with a simple introduction, but don’t let that fool you. This class will be difficult. I’m here to test your mind and your spell work, not to hold your hand.”

He watches as most of the students gulp and slouch down into their chairs. Hermione however, seems to perk up at this information. He quirks a brow and smirks at her eagerness. “Now, let’s get started with some questions to test your aptitude. Who can tell me which two ingredients are mixed together to treat werewolf bites?”

Hermione’s hand shoots up into the air. Two or three others following behind her at a much slower pace. He holds back a grin, eager to finally be able to speak to his mate. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

“A mixture of powered silver and dittany is used to treat werewolf bites and to stop the victim from bleeding to death, sir.” Her voice is clear and rings like bells in his ears. 

“Very good, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor.” Fondness grips his chest as her face brightens with pride at the praise. “What year did Gellert Grindelwald’s Uprising end?” Again, Hermione’s is the first hand up. “Miss Granger?”

“1945, sir.” 

“Correct again, Miss Granger. Very good. Ten points to Gryffindor.” Now beaming, Hermione softly thanks him. 

“Who can tell me what can be used as a vampire deterrent?” Although Hermione is once again the first student who raises their hand, he calls on another. It’ll do neither of them any good if he’s seen favoring her in class. “Mr. Malfoy?” His heart clenches as he sees Hermione frown and slowly lower her hand. 

Draco straightens in his seat. “Garlic, Professor. Vampires are highly allergic to it.”

“Well done. Ten points to Slytherin.”

After he picks on Hermione to answer another question, he notices the Potter boy and one of the Weasleys sitting in the middle of the room rolling their eyes. Weasley leans into Potter and he can just barely hear him say, “That bird’s a right know it all, isn’t she?” He sees Hermione’s face flare red as she slouches low in her seat. His fists clench and his eyes narrow at the two boys. 

“Weasley! Potter!” Both boys straighten to attention in their seats. “How do you expect to learn if you’re too busy whispering and giggling like little schoolgirls?” They redden as the class around them starts to laugh. “Pay attention and be quiet, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sorry, Professor.”

He returns back to the class and only calms as he sees Hermione smiling gratefully his way. 

The class ends sooner than he would like, and the students start to pack their things and head out the door. He starts to panic again. “Miss Granger?” He abruptly asks. “Would you mind staying behind for a just a minute?”

“Of course, Professor.” With a look of nervousness, she shoos Longbottom away and walks up to him by his desk. The last student walks out of the room and closes the door behind them. “Did I do something wrong, sir?” 

“No, no. Nothing wrong. I just wanted to tell you how impressed I was with you today in class. I couldn’t have you answer every question, of course, but it didn’t escape my notice that you knew all the answers.” He grins as Hermione’s expression changes and she beams at the praise. 

“Thank you, Professor! I started studying as soon as I got my books. It’s all just so interesting. I finished all of the first year books, so I started on second year.” 

His eyes widen. “Very impressive, Miss Granger. I’m looking forward to having you in my class.” He distantly hears the bell ringing in the hall. He frowns. “Best get on to your next class. I’ll see you on Thursday.” 

“I’m looking forward to being in your class, as well. See you Thursday, Professor Riddle.” She smiles as she turns and rushes off to her next class. 

His face glazes over at her use of his last name. He never much cared for his name, but he couldn’t help but love the sound of her saying it. _Now, how can I get her to call me Tom_? 

He wipes the look off his face as the third years come into the room, hoping for another quick class period so he can get off to lunch to see her again. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The door closes behind the last student of his final class of the day. He settles into his desk chair and organizes the already growing stack of papers gathering on the tabletop. He moves to stand when the door opens. He glances up to spot the person he least hoped it would be. 

“Albus. What do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Don’t act naive, Tom. We both know what year it is.” There’s that infernal _twinkle_ again. He holds back an eyeroll as Dumbledore begins to walk around the room and fiddle with magical artifacts lying about. “I couldn’t help but notice the extra attention you’ve been giving one of the new first years. A Miss Granger?” He tosses a sly glance over his shoulder. 

Tom sighs. “Enough with the games, Albus. Yes, Hermione is my mate.”

Dumbledore turns to face Tom with a grin. “I’m very happy that the wait is finally over. Miss Granger seems like a very special girl.” 

“Yes, she is.” He turns back to his paperwork, dismissing the Headmaster. “Was there anything else you needed, Albus?”

“No, no. You may carry on with the rest of your day. I’m sure you’re wanting to finish up soon. The students will be heading to dinner in no time at all, and I know you’ll want to beat them there,” he says suggestively. He chuckles at Tom’s scowl. “I shall take my leave. Enjoy the rest of your night, Tom.” 

Tom’s head snaps up as the door opens. “Wait. I almost forgot.” One hand still on the door, Dumbledore turns with a quirked brow. “I need personal quarters closer to Gryffindor Tower. Living in the dungeons is somewhat … inconvenient.”

“Ahh, yes, I see. Of course.” He nods. “There is a spare room available on the seventh floor. I’ll have the elves move your things there.” 

“Thank you, Albus,” he says, bowing his head.

With a quick farewell, Dumbledore leaves the room. 

Tom sighs. He hopes to be able to relax enough now to sleep tonight. 

Unlikely.


	5. Chapter 4

I’ve been superrrr busy, but here’s an update finally! Longest chapter so far!!! We’re starting to get into Time Skip Land! I don’t have an outline, but I’m planning about a chapter or two per year until Hermione’s 6th year. Even though I don’t personally like it, the split POVs ended up happening against my will so I’m going to keep with it. I’m going to try not to be too repetitive with going over the same thing. I’ll just gloss over some situations when I feel the opposite POV isn’t necessary, as seen here. 

I started a board on Pinterest for this story! Just search for jennaisperfect and the board is called Need You Now. It’ll show some visuals like rooms and clothes if anyone is interested!

Without further ado, LET’S GOOOO!!!!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hermione walks through the dungeon halls towards the Potion’s room with Neville, lost in thought.

Professor Riddle was staring at her again. 

Despite her best efforts, she can’t seem to figure out _why_. She also doesn’t understand why her eyes seem to be drawn his way, too. Maybe she can feel his eyes on her and it causes her to meet them? She doesn’t know. 

She’s brought out of her musings as they finally enter the Potion’s room and sit down in the first row. She leans over her bag to pull out paper and a quill to take notes when she feels someone sit down in the chair next to her. 

“Hello, you’re Hermione Granger, right?” She startles as her neighbor speaks to her. She lifts her head to see a Slytherin boy with hair so blonde it’s almost white. 

“Um, yes. Hello.”

“Draco Malfoy. Nice to meet you,” he holds out his hand to shake. 

She grabs his hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you, too.” 

Draco turns to the two boys that are sitting next to him. “These are my mates, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. Guys, this is Hermione Granger.” 

She exchanges waves and hellos with them. Theodore tossing out that she can call him Theo. Remembering Neville, she introduces the three boys to him. They all chat silently until Professor Snape comes striding into the room, robes billowing behind him with the force of the wind from his movement. 

Potions flies by quickly. Fred and George weren’t lying when they said that Professor Snape only liked the Slytherins. However, he didn’t seem to be as callous with Hermione. Odd. 

As the class ends, she packs her things and stands to leave with Neville, waving goodbye to Draco and his friends as they stay to talk to Snape. 

“Professor Snape is terrifying! I don’t know how I’m going to be able to get through his class.” Neville turns his worried eyes onto her. 

“Don’t worry, Neville! I’ll be your partner. Maybe it’ll even become your favorite class,” she giggles. 

“Highly doubtful,” he mutters. 

Hermione laughs as they make their way through the crowded halls and into their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She avoids looking towards the front of the room where she knows Professor Riddle is standing. Everything about him confuses her; and where she would normally want to start researching immediately, she instead is too embarrassed by these constant thoughts of him to want to spend any extra time thinking about it. 

_It’s probably just a stupid crush_ , she reminds herself. 

She sits in the front of the room again with Neville, and she turns to wave at the Slytherin boys as she hears them walk into the room. 

Despite her earlier avoidance, her attention quickly snaps to Professor Riddle as he begins to speak. His voice is deep and strong and easily holds the attention of everyone in the room – especially the girls. 

She’s excited at the prospect of being challenged in this class. Reading their required book already had her excited about the material, and now she can’t wait to get to the practical learning. She instantly knows the answers to all of the questions Professor Riddle asks, and she beams at his praise when he calls on her to give the answer. 

At one point, she hears Harry and Ron making fun of her a few seats behind her. She sinks low into her chair as her face heats in embarrassment. 

“Weasley! Potter! How do you expect to learn if you’re too busy whispering and giggling like little schoolgirls? Pay attention and be quiet, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.” She’s stunned to hear Professor Riddle reprimand her housemates. She sends him a grateful smile as the class around her begins to giggle. 

After class, Professor Riddle asks her to stay behind. She nervously approached him, but was surprised to hear him commend her intelligence. She left his room with a new pep in her step.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That night, she settles into bed while the other first year girls gossiped about their first day. She had hoped that Olivia Adams and Sophie Thomson would be more like her and less like Lavender and Parvati, but she was wrong.

How unfortunate. 

“Professor Riddle looked just marvelous today, didn’t he?” Sophie asked. 

“Oh yes! Black really is his color. He’s just so cute!” Parvati quickly chimed in with a squeal. 

“Did you see the way he looked at me?” Lavender popped in from her bed. “He couldn’t take his eyes off of me. I think that I might be his mate.” 

Parvati, Olivia, and Sophie silently look at each other before promptly bursting into uncontrollable laughter. Even Hermione gives a little chuckle at that one. 

“What?!” Wide eyed, Lavender looks between the girls. “Didn’t you notice? I think he fancies himself in love with me,” she haughtily says, nose in the air. 

The laughter grows louder. 

Hermione closes the drapes around her bed and lays on her side to go to sleep. Those insipid girls only care about boys and makeup and hair. They couldn’t care less about important things like books and grades. 

She sighs as her hope of becoming friends with them drifts off along with her to sleep, and she tries to ignore how her heart gave a painful thump at the thought of Lavender being Professor Riddle’s mate.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next few months fly by as she’s busy studying and getting used to her new routine.

One day a few weeks into term, she stopped by Professor Riddle’s office to get a second opinion on her DADA essay. He offered a very compelling argument to what she had written and helped her go on a better path. Once they were done, he offered to let her stay and finish the essay in his office in case she had any other questions. 

She’s done her work there every day since. 

Professor Riddle was easily becoming her favorite teacher. He was the only one willing and able to have a lengthy, intelligent conversation about every sort of topic imaginable. He always tested her and kept her on her toes, and he never got bored or rolled his eyes when she would get excited and babble about something she thought was interesting. Even her parents sometimes turned to polite smiles and nods when they had had too much of her. 

Professor Riddle never did that to her. 

She’s in his office again the day before the trains leave for Christmas break. None of her assignments are due until the end of break, but she wanted to get a head start on them. 

She lifts her head from her charms homework and stretches out the kinks in her neck. As she shakes the stiffness out of her hand from writing, she glances at the clock. Her eyes widen in surprise and she hops up from her seat. 

“Oh! Dinner’s started!” 

Professor Riddle looks up from the paper he’s grading to look at the time. “I suppose it is. I guess we lost track of time.” 

She starts to throw her things into her bag. “I haven’t even begun to pack my things and the train leaves at 9 in the morning.” 

“You’re going home for break?” She furrows her brow at his tone. It sounds almost … strained? No, that can’t be right. She looks up to find that he’s gone back to grading. 

“Of course. I haven’t seen my parents in months. And it’s Christmas! Aren’t you going home to your family?” 

“No. My parents died when I was young, and I was an only child.” 

“Oh.” Her face flares at her misstep. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” 

His head lifts and he gives her a slight smile. “It’s fine, Hermione. Don’t worry about it. I’m used to the questions by now.” He’d taken to calling her by her first name after her fifteenth time visiting his office. 

“Do you have anything exciting planned for the holiday?” She turns the subject away from his family. Or his lack of one. 

“I’ll probably attend the Malfoy’s annual New Year’s Eve party. Otherwise, nothing too exciting for me. What about you? Do the Granger’s have anything exhilarating planned?”

“Nope. Just our usual Christmas for us. Spending the whole day in our pajamas and marathoning Christmas movies.”

“Sounds invigorating,” he grins. 

“Oh, be quiet. It’s tradition!” He laughs at her vehemence. She packs up the last of her books. “I really need to head down to dinner. I’m already going to be up passed midnight packing.” 

She glances up and catches a frown that he quickly evens out. “We wouldn’t want that, now. Hurry along. Have a Happy Christmas, Hermione.”

“You, too, Professor.” She throws him a wave as she heads out the door and towards the Great Hall.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hermione sighs as she sets her book down beside her on the couch. Ever since she left school two days ago, she’s been feeling an odd emptiness inside. Not that she’s not overjoyed to be with her parents, but a part of her is longing to be back in the castle.

She stands and makes her way into the kitchen to make herself something to eat for lunch. She pulls out some ham and cheese to make a sandwich and goes back to look for some mustard. As she’s rummaging through the refrigerator, she hears a tapping on the window. She turns around, eyes widening at the sight of an owl. 

“Hello, there. What are you doing here?”

She opens the window and the owl flies into the kitchen, landing on the counter and shaking the snow off its wings. She unwraps a letter from the owl’s leg and it nips at her fingers, asking for a treat. She reaches over for a small slice of ham and feeds it to the owl as she unrolls the letter. 

_Dear Hermione,_

_Hello! I hope you’re enjoying your Christmas Holiday so far. My mother is driving me mad with all of the preparations for the New Year’s Eve party over here. Why do I care whether there are roses or gardenias?_

_I apologize for this being so last minute, but Mother asked for me to invite you to the party. Gave me a big lecture for not inviting you in the first place. It’s not that I don’t want you there, I just wanted to save you from the torture of going._

_Anyway, this is your official invitation. The party is New Year’s Eve, obviously, and starts at 7 PM. It’s formal dress, but Mother says she has something you can wear if you can’t find something last minute. A dress and shoes, so no need to worry about it. Mother also mentioned that you’re welcome to stay here in one of our guest suits if it would make your parents more comfortable._

_Send a response back with Apollo. If you want to come, one of my parents will arrive at your house at 6:45 PM that night to side-along apparate with you here. Someone will also take you home, of course._

_Best,  
Draco_

Hermione sets down the letter and races over to the telephone. She quickly dials the number to her parents’ dentist office and asks the receptionist if either of her parents are available. She taps her foot impatiently as she waits for one to pick up. 

“Hermione. Is everything alright, dear?” Her mother’s voice comes floating through the phone. 

“Yes, mum, everything is fine. I just had a question. I just received a letter from my friend Draco Malfoy that I told you about. His family is having a party on New Year’s Eve and he’s invited me to go. Could I pretty pretty pretty please?” She holds her breath as she waits for her mother to speak. 

“Well … I suppose it would be fine for you to go. Your father and I were thinking about going to the Jameson’s party that night anyway, but we didn’t want to leave you alone.”

She dances around the kitchen and squeals. “Oh, thank you, Mum!”

“Now, hold on a second,” she says sternly. “How would you get home? If we’re out late I don’t know if we’ll be able to pick you up, and I don’t know how I feel about you being out so late, too.”

“Draco said that someone would come to pick me up and bring me home. And Mrs. Malfoy offered for me to stay the night with them since the party is so late. I don’t mind staying the night. Could I _please_?” 

Her mother hums. “If you’re okay with it, then I guess am, too.”

“Oh, thank you, Mum!”

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart. I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll see you in a few hours, okay? I love you.”

“Love you, too, Mum.” She hangs up the phone and rushes back over to write a reply. 

_Dear Draco,_

_Thank you for wanting to save me from having to attend your parents’ party, but it was unnecessary. I would love to go! I asked my mum and she said I could go and that it was fine for me to stay the night, too. Please let your mother know that I would love to wear the outfit she has for me. Formal wear isn’t exactly something that I have laying around the house. I’ll see you in a few days! Have a Happy Christmas!_

_Best,  
Hermione_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next few days pass by in a blur of Christmas festivities. She had a lovely Christmas with her parents, and they spent that evening with family for dinner. She loves school, but she didn’t realize how much she missed getting together with family until she was surrounded by all her loved ones.

However, even though she had an amazing holiday, she couldn’t help but notice that her heart didn’t feel completely full. She was still missing something. 

The only issue was that she couldn’t figure out exactly what that was.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Today is officially New Year’s Eve, and Hermione is currently sitting in the bathroom while her mum tries to tame her unruly curls.

It feels more like torture.

“Ow!” She winces for the millionth time as her mum pulls too hard. 

“Sorry, honey. I’m almost done.”

Hermione internally groans. She’s been sitting here for almost two hours now. Her hair has been brushed, curled, and sprayed more times tonight than ever in her entire life.

She may be exaggerating. But she’s pretty sure she’s not. 

After a few more tugs, her mum proclaims, “Finished!” 

She turns around to finally look at the end result of her abuse. She’s gasps. She doesn’t even recognize herself. Her mum was able to somehow smooth out her natural frizz into sleek curls that tumbled down her back. The top half was pulled into an intricate bun with a braid woven in from each side of her head. 

“It’s perfect, Mum. I love it!”

Jean leans down from behind Hermione and wraps her arms loosely around her. “You look so beautiful, Hermione.” They perk up at the sound of a knock at the door. “That must be one of the Malfoys,” Jean says. “You grab your shoes, coat, and bag and I’ll go get the door.”

As Jean heads downstairs, Hermione jumps up and rushes to grab her things. Slipping into her coat and a pair of winter boots for the trip. Her heart is pounding in excitement. She’s been looking forward to this party and seeing her friend for days now. She hurries down the stairs and comes to a quick stop once she realizes who is at the front door with her mother and father. 

“Professor Riddle!” She races the rest of the way downstairs towards the group. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Hermione.” He smiles. “Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were indisposed last minute, so I offered to be your escort.”

“I forgot that you said you would be at the party tonight.” She pivots to face her parents. “This is Professor Riddle that I told you about. My Defense professor.” Twin looks of recognition cross both of their faces. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Riddle. Hermione has had nothing but good things to say about you. I’m Jean Granger and this is my husband, Richard.” They each hold out their hands for him to shake. 

“Hermione is one of my best students. It’s a pleasure to have her in my class. And please, call me Tom.” 

Hermione quickly masks the surprise on her face. She hadn’t realized that she never learned his first name until just now. She’s confused at the flare of disappointment she feels at the thought of him never entrusting her with the information. She shakes the disconcerting feeling away and returns her attention back to the conversation. She notices Professor Riddle giving her a questioning look, but it’s wiped off his face as her father interrupts the moment. 

“You two better be off. Party’s going to be in the swing of things by the time you get there,” her dad starts to shoo them out the door. 

“Your father’s right, dear. We should probably head off, too, Richard.”

Her parents grab their coats and kiss Hermione goodbye. 

“It was nice to meet you, Tom. Thank you for picking up Hermione,” her father adds. 

“It was nice to meet you both, too. And it’s no problem. I was happy to help.”

“Wait,” her mother exclaims as she’s slipping her arms into her coat. “How are you two getting to the Malfoy’s home? I didn’t see a car outside.”

“We’ll be apparating. It’s a form of magical travel.”

“Oh! How interesting! Just right here, then? Or do you need to go somewhere?”

“Here is fine. Hermione?” Hermione straightens at her name. “Are you ready?” He holds out his arm for her to grab onto. 

Her face warms as she grabs onto the crook of his elbow and his bicep. As his other hand settles over one of hers and their skin touches, she gasps quietly. The empty feeling that’s been in the back of her mind all of break disappears and she suddenly feels full. Like she’s exactly where she needs to be. 

She feels his hand tighten on hers as he leans down to whisper, “Relax and clear your mind.”

She does as he directs and yelps as he turns and she’s thrust into what feels like a small tube, her body squeezing and molding. In seconds, they’re landing on flat land and she heaves in precious air. 

He keeps ahold of her while she gains her bearings. 

She tries to ignore her disappointment when he finally lets go. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. 

“Yes. I think.” She breaths out a laugh. “I’ve never done that before.”

He sends her a grin. “It’s a little disorienting the first time, but you get used to it after a while.”

Her eyes widen as she finally takes in the house before them. 

A house is perhaps too quaint a word. More like a mansion, really. 

They’re just inside the large, imposing gates that are open to admit the long parade of carriages and other apparating guests. There’s a sea of people walking up the grand steps to the enormous home. The windows were lit up and she could hear the murmur of conversation and the flow of music from where they were outside. 

As they begin to walk towards the entrance to the mansion, she asks, “Why are those people apparating from outside the gate?” 

“There are wards in place that stop anyone not permitted from apparating straight onto the Manor’s grounds. I’ve been friends with the Malfoys for a long time, so the wards don’t apply to me. I usually apparate straight into the foyer, but I wanted you to be able to see the outside of the home.”

She hums in understanding, distracted by all the sights and sounds as they walk up the steps and through the large front doors. 

Her face splits into a wide grin as she spots Draco. He’s standing next to a couple with identical platinum blonde hair that must be his parents. The pair walk up to the family and Draco returns her grin. 

“Hermione, hello!”

“Hi, Draco!”

He gestures towards his parents. “Mother. Father. This is Hermione Granger.”

Mrs. Malfoy smiles and pulls her into a hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Hermione. We’ve heard so much about you.” 

Mr. Malfoy leans in to shake her hand. “Hello, Hermione. It almost feels like this home has been waiting decades for your presence.” He sends a smirk to the man at her side and she glances at Professor Riddle to see him glaring back. She furrows her brow at the exchange, but chooses to question Draco about it later when she can get him alone. 

“Thank you so much for inviting me into your lovely home, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.” 

“Darling, please call us Narcissa and Lucius. You’re practically family. No need for formalities here.” She smiles and nods in agreement. “Now, let’s get you upstairs and changed.” She feels Professor Riddle move along with them as Narcissa grabs her hand and starts to pull her up the stairs, but he halts as Narcissa throws over her shoulder, “No need to follow, Tom. Us girls can handle ourselves. We’ll be back down before you know it.” 

_Strange. Her back was turned. How did she know he was following?_

She forgets the thought as Narcissa begins to speak. “The elves prepared one of the guest suites for you to stay in tonight. If you find that you’re missing anything, either ask one of us, or call for Mippy. She’s our head elf, and she’ll be happy to get you anything you need. Ah, here we are.”

She opens up a door close to the end of the hall, and Hermione gasps at the large space. The bedroom was larger than her living room and kitchen combined at home. It was decorated in light blues, whites, and gold accents. A large fireplace with two comfortable looking armchairs in front of it sat to the left of the doorway. French doors are centered in the far wall and she can just glimpse what looks like an amazing view. A large bed was against the wall to the right. It looked like Heaven; a blue bedspread, a draped canopy over the top half, and more pillows than she could ever imagine. Aside from the overwhelming beauty of the room, the most exciting part of it to Hermione was the bookcase spanning the entire entryway wall, top to bottom. It was full of books and she felt her eyes glaze over at the magnificence of it. 

She wipes the side of her mouth when Narcissa isn’t looking just in case she started drooling at the sight. 

“This room is beautiful, Narcissa. I could sit in here all day and read these books,” she confesses, voice full of awe.

Narcissa smiles. “I’m glad you like it, dear. Let’s get you changed so we can head back down to the party.” 

Narcissa leads her over to one of two – not including the entrance – doorways in the room and opens it. Hermione is yet again shocked at the sight of a pristine white bathroom. Again, this one is larger than any of them in her own home. It’s open and spacious and has a delightful looking circular bathtub surrounded by steps leading up into it that she would love to soak in. 

Narcissa reaches up to grab a dress down from by the vanity and hands it to her. She steps out of the room as Hermione slips into it. It’s a lovely red dress and long enough to reach to her ankles. It has a slight sweetheart neckline and is overlaid with lace that comes up closer to her neck and reaches in long sleeves all the way to her wrists. A ribbon is wrapped around her waist and ties into a bow in the back. It’s the most beautiful dress she’s ever worn, and she can’t help but glow at how pretty she feels when she puts it on. 

As she walks out of the bathroom, Narcissa clasps her hands and holds them in front of her face. “Oh, Hermione, you look lovely.” 

She blushes at the rare praise. “Thank you, Narcissa.” 

She hands her a pair of simple black flats. “Hurry and put on these shoes and we’ll head back downstairs.” 

She does so and they make their way down to the ballroom where the music is loudest. Hermione takes in all the decorations and people as they walk into the grand ballroom. 

“It looks lovely in here, Narcissa. You did an amazing job.”

“Thank you so much, dear,” she smiles gratefully at Hermione. “Ah, there’s Draco. Looks like the boys all arrived, too. Why don’t you head over that way? Trust me, you don’t want to have to deal with all the mingling I’m going to have to deal with tonight.” Hermione laughs as Narcissa winks and makes her way over to Draco, Blaise, and Theo. 

The boys meet her halfway as they look up and see her walking towards them. They all exchange greetings and make their way over to the long table full of hors d'oeuvres to start piling food onto plates. 

They spend the beginning of the night floating around the room and avoiding people who tried to talk to the boys so that they could make a connection to get to their parents. They make jokes about the stuck up guests and giggle behind their hands. Hermione’s having a great time and is so happy that she was able to come. 

While they were laughing about the most outrageous mustache they had ever seen on a man on the dancefloor, they startle as a deep voice comes up behind them. 

“I hope you’re all behaving yourselves.” 

They spin around and look guiltily up at Professor Riddle. 

“Hello, Professor,” they all greet. 

“Boys. Hermione.” He nods at them all, hands clasped behind his back. He turns his attention to the boys, “Lucius was looking for you three. He wants to introduce you to the Puddlemere United seeker.”

Their eyes get wide and they race off in the direction Professor Riddle points towards. Hermione rolls her eyes at boys and their fascination with Quidditch. 

The now lone pair silently stares out at the other guests. Hermione looking on longingly to the dancefloor. She loves to dance, but she felt too uncomfortable asking one of the boys if they wanted to dance with her. 

She jumps as an arm is suddenly thrust in front of her face. She looks up at Professor Riddle as he asks, “Would you like to join me for a dance?” 

Her eyes widen and she hesitates, almost saying no thank you, but she decides to grab his arm anyway. This may be her only chance to dance at this party. 

He pulls her onto the dance floor and starts to gracefully move to the steps of the song being played by the band. It takes her a moment, but she quickly picks up on the pattern. He’s quite taller than her and he has to bend down somewhat awkwardly. After a minute of this position, he huffs and she squeaks as she’s suddenly picked up and her feet are deposited onto his own. He relaxes into this new position, able to hold onto her and move around more easily. 

She blushes at how close this brings her to him. 

A distant _click_ and a flash and she flinches. She turns towards the source and sees a photographer moving on to the next dancing pair, taking their photo. 

“How was your Christmas?” 

She jerks her head up at his question, catching his gaze. “Lovely! We did exactly what I said. Never left the couch or our pajamas.” She grins at his amused look. “Did you do anything Christmas Day, Professor?”

“I’ve been here all break, so I spent it with the Malfoys.” His face seems to strain slightly. “And please, Hermione, call me Tom. We’re not at school, we don’t have to be so formal.” 

“Okay. Tom.” Her face warms and she looks down at their feet, missing the awestruck look that takes over his face. “You’re very close with the Malfoys then? I know you said you’ve been a friend of the family for a long time.” 

“I went to school with Abraxas, Lucius’s father. His mother couldn’t stand that I didn’t have anyone to spend holidays and breaks with, so she made sure that I was always welcome at their home. I’ve been coming around ever since.” 

Hermione smiles, happy that even though he didn’t have a family of his own, he had people that he could call family. 

“Abraxas is around here somewhere, actually. I’m sure he would love to meet you.” A secret smile crosses Tom’s face. 

Bemused, Hermione asks, “Me? Why would he want to meet me?” 

“Narcissa’s already decided you’re part of the family. She would be appalled if he didn’t introduce himself.” 

Hermione feels like there’s more to it than that, but she decides to let it go. 

As the song ends, he helps her off his feet and guides her over to a corner of the room towards a regal looking couple. The man looks exactly like Lucius, but aged about twenty more years. She instantly knows this is Abraxas Malfoy. 

Nervous butterflies start flying around in her stomach as Tom walks them up to the couple. She’s never seen such a regal pair of people, and she almost feels unworthy to speak to them. 

Her nerves fade away as the biggest smile she’s ever seen stretches over the face of Abraxas when her and Tom step into view. He steps forward and grabs her into a tight hug. “Hermione, it’s so great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” He pulls back but still holds onto her arms, looking over her over from head to toe. “You look very lovely tonight. I’ve heard you’ve got a brain big enough to challenge ole Tom here too, eh?” He chuckles and straightens back up. “This is my wife, Catherine.”

Catherine smiles and leans down to also give her a hug. She smiles at the pair and greets them both. She doesn’t know why she was so nervous. They’re some of the nicest people she’s ever met. 

The Malfoys ask her about herself, school, and her family. She answers every question with a bright smile. They talk until Draco comes striding over and tugs her away to go back to the boys. She waves her goodbyes to the three of them and runs off with Draco. Throwing one last glance towards the group, she sees Abraxas clasp Tom’s shoulder as Tom looks down bashfully. 

Time passed quickly with all of their fun. At one point, Narcissa dragged them over to take pictures. She was surprised to be ushered into a few, instead of just watching from the sidelines. She was pulled into a family photo with all of the Malfoys and Tom, her and the three boys, and just her and Draco. Then, to her shock and embarrassment, Narcissa made her take a photo with just her and Tom. She blushed as she was pushed into his side to pose, but she relaxed and smiled as he sent her a wink and a smile behind Narcissa’s back. 

Before they know it, it’s time to countdown to midnight. She yells out the numbers and screams “Happy New Year” and blows in wizard party horns surrounded by people who she’s starting to believe she’ll know for the rest of her life. 

She’s never been happier. 

Not too long after midnight, her energy wears out. Draco, Blaise, and Theo falling along right with her. They all say their goodbyes and plan to meet up at the Hogwarts Express to share a compartment in a couple days. Blaise and Theo plod along to find their parents, and Draco leads Hermione upstairs after they say goodnight to his family and Tom. 

Hermione changes and lays in the big bed that is just like Heaven and falls asleep with a smile on her face.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunlight shining in through the French doors wakes Hermione up in the morning. As she stretches and sits up, she remembers where she is. She grins and hops out of bed, happy at the thought of all the fun she had last night. She makes her way towards the bathroom, but jumps when she hears a _pop_ sound next to her.

“Good morning, Miss! Mippy is to be telling Miss to go downstairs to the dining room for breakfast when Miss is ready.” A small house elf with floppy ears and bright, big eyes advises her. 

“Hello, Mippy! Thank you for telling me. I think I’m going to take a quick bath and then I’ll be down. Is that alright?”

“Of course, Miss! Miss is having plenty of time to bathe! Breakfast is to be serving in thirty minutes.” Mippy’s eyes grow even wider if possible and she grabs her ears in her small hands and starts to twist them nervously. “If Miss is to be needing anything at all, please call for Mippy, yes? Mippy is very happy to be serving Miss and to be helping her with anything Miss be needing.” 

Hermione smiles at the wonderful elf. “You have my word, Mippy. Anything at all and I’ll be calling you.”

Mippy grins and with another _pop_ she disappears from the room. 

Hermione continues into the bathroom and fills the tub. Jumping in once the water is full enough. She relaxes for as long as she can and then hurries out to dry off and get dressed. 

As she leaves her room to head down to breakfast, she realizes that Mippy didn’t tell her exactly _where_ the dining room is. As she opens her mouth to call for the elf, the door next to her own opens and Tom walks out. 

He spots her and his mouth turns up into a smile. “Good morning, Hermione. Headed down to breakfast?” 

She grins sheepishly. “Morning. I was headed that way, until I realized I don’t actually know where I’m going.” 

He chuckles and holds out his arm to her. “No problem. I’ll escort you there.” 

She hesitantly grabs onto his arm and lets him lead her to the dining room where they walk in to find Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco already seated at the table. Lucius at the head and Narcissa to his right, Draco in the seat next to her. Tom pulls out the chair next to the seat on Lucius’s left, and holds it out for her to sit. She thanks him as she takes her seat and he pushes the chair in, moving to sit in the empty chair beside her. 

They make small talk throughout breakfast, mostly the Malfoys asking Hermione questions about herself. As they finish, she runs upstairs to grab her things and comes back down to meet everyone in the foyer. 

Narcissa hugs her tightly. “I’m so glad you came, Hermione. It was so great to meet you. You’re welcome here anytime you want, dear.” She pulls away with a quick squeeze to Hermione’s shoulders. Lucius gives her a quick goodbye and she hugs Draco quickly with a parting reminder about meeting at King’s Cross. 

She grabs onto Tom’s arm and prepares herself for the feeling of apparition. With a twist, they land in front of her house, a Notice Me Not charm already on them to keep her neighbors from seeing their sudden appearance. 

“Goodbye, Hermione. I’ll see you in a couple days.” 

“Goodbye, Tom.” She waves as he turns and disappears and she walks into her house, bursting to tell her parents all about her night.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is going to be more of a filler and have a few time jumps. We’re going to get through 2nd-4th year here, then I think all of next chapter will be in Hermione’s 5th year. I haven’t fully decided if the chapter after that will go straight to 6th year or if I have anything else in mind for 5th. We’ll find out together! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, reviewed, etc.!!

The second half of the school year flew by faster than Hermione ever thought possible. 

After Christmas holidays, she jumped back into her normal routine at school. Her days were spent in her classes, and her nights were shared between her time socializing with her friends and studying with Professor Riddle. 

_Tom_ , she internally corrects herself. 

She blushes bright red at just the thought. 

While she obviously only calls him by his title during class and whenever they pass by each other in the halls, Tom informed her that she was welcome to use his first name during their nightly office time. So she did. Happily. 

She breezed through finals, and before she knew it, the train was pulling into King’s Cross Station to send them all home. She says her farewells to Neville and all her old and new – Draco had introduced her to his other friends: Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass – Slytherin friends; promises to write over the summer overlapping with all their goodbyes. 

She rushes over to her waiting parents, crushing them into a tight hug before they leave the station and head back home. Summer stretching out far ahead of Hermione. 

She already couldn’t wait to go back to Hogwarts.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_July 28th, 2015_

Hermione has been home for just over a month now for summer break. 

She’s about one week away from dying of boredom. 

She sighs as she sets down the book she’s reading. Grabbing the TV remote and pressing the power button, she turns it on. She lazily flips through the channels, already knowing she won’t find anything to hold her attention. 

Since she has left school, her and her friends have kept their promises to stay in touch. She has letters coming in daily from at least one of them. 

Her letters are her only enjoyment at this point in the summer. 

She sighs again.

Neville has had a busy break so far. One of his cousins is getting married in a few weeks, and the whole family has been helping prepare for the event. Neville is begrudgingly helping, too, against his wishes. 

Pansy and Daphne have been spending the summer in France with Pansy’s family. They’ve been sending Hermione photos and telling her stories about all that they’ve been getting up to in the beautiful country. Attending lunches and galas. Gossiping about all the cute boys who are also there with their parents. Things Hermione never considered to be fun summer activities. 

She hates that she feels jealous. 

Theo is also out of the country – in _America_ , of all places. His father has business there, and he was dragged along with him. Seeing as how he’s supposed to join at his father’s side once he graduates in a few years. 

Blaise is at home with his mother, but he has been forced into mourning for the entire summer. Her _seventh_ husband has just mysteriously passed away. 

Blaise doesn’t like talking about his mother very much. 

Hermione completely understands. 

Draco has been traveling with his grandparents since school let out, but he’s due back today. She is eagerly awaiting his letter confirming that he’s made it home. 

She has just settled on a channel playing an old movie she’s almost sure she’s seen before, when she hears the door open. Her parents are finally home from work. 

Thank _God_. 

“Hermione?” Her mother calls from the entryway. 

“In here,” she shouts back in reply, sitting up and looking over the back of the couch as her parents walk into the room. 

Her nerves instantly spike at the worried looks on their faces. “Is something wrong?” She asks, mind spinning with every possible worst-case scenario. Sickness and bad patients and natural disasters. 

“No, nothing is wrong, honey. Just some bad news,” her father answers. “Your mother and I have just agreed to help out an old friend and be guest lecturers for dental students in Dublin. You’re going to have to stay with your grandmother while we’re gone.”

Hermione sighs in relief, her worries floating away. She loves her grandma, and she’s due for a visit anyway. “Oh, that’s fine! I don’t mind staying with Grandma. How long will you be gone?”

Her parents exchange a nervous glance. “That’s the thing, dear,” her mother starts hesitantly. “We’re covering for a professor for the rest of the semester. We’ll be gone for the whole summer.” 

Hermione baulks. “ _The whole summer_? I have to stay with Grandma for the rest of summer break?” 

Her father reaches forward and lays a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’re so sorry, Hermione. If there was any other option, we would take it, but we don’t want you to be cooped up in a hotel room all by yourself.”

Her shoulders sag. Resigned, Hermione says, “It’s okay. I understand.”

Her parents hug her and apologize again, telling her that they will be leaving in two days. 

Hermione slouches back down into the couch as her parents move upstairs to get cleaned up from work before dinner. She throws her head back onto the back of the couch and lets out a long sigh. She usually visits her grandma in the summertime anyway, but staying with her for the entire summer will be even _more_ boring than being at home. 

She cannot believe her luck.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After dinner, Hermione makes her way up to her room. She shuts the door behind her and heads straight to her bed, in a mission to fall face first onto the mattress and sulk for the rest of the night. Before she reaches the bed, movement at her window grabs onto her attention. Turning, she notices an owl perched outside. Her mood brightens as she recognizes him to be Draco’s owl, Apollo. She runs to the window and lets him in, quickly untying the letter from his leg.

Smiling, she begins to read. As she expected, Draco informs her that he has just made it back home. She laughs as he complains about how boring the trip was and how he had to suffer through boring “old people things”. She rolls her eyes at his usual dramatics. 

As she finishes the letter, she quickly grabs parchment and a quill and pens back a response. Starting with how she’s happy he made it back safe, moving on to how he should be more grateful that he was able to travel to so many beautiful countries in such a short period of time, and finally ending with her own complaints of how her summer is now going to end. 

She rolls up the parchment and carefully ties it to Apollo’s leg, feeding him a treat from the jar she had added to her desk because of the influx of owls visiting her, and lets him out the window to deliver her reply back to Draco. 

About twenty minutes later, she’s just settled into bed and started rereading one of her favorite books when she hears Apollo tapping on her window again. 

She’s surprised. She hadn’t expected a reply this soon, thinking Draco would want to relax after getting home so late. 

She marks her page and sets the book aside, stepping out of bed. She lets Apollo in again and grabs the letter. 

_Hermione,_

_First of all, I think you’re underestimating exactly how boring all of these events were. I was by far the youngest person there, and they listened to jazz_. Jazz, _Hermione. Do I need to say more?_

_Second, I mentioned your situation to Mother and Father and Mother said that you were welcome to come and stay here at the Manor instead of your grandmother’s house if that was more appealing. She said you could stay in the same guest room and that she would love for you to spend the rest of the summer here._

_Would you please stay here, Hermione? I’ve had the most dreadful summer so far and Blaise and Theo are unavailable for the rest of the holiday. You’re my only hope. I may very well drop dead if I have to spend another second alone with all these adults._

_Please take my wellbeing into consideration when making your decision._

_Your friend who is very close to death,  
Draco_

Hermione snorts at Draco’s exaggeration, but then a large smile spreads across her face and her stomach clenches in excitement. 

She races back downstairs to where her parents are relaxing in the living room. She skids into the room—almost slipping on the hardwood floors—and opens her mouth, speaking so quickly her words blur together. “Mum. Dad. Draco’s mum just said that I could stay at their house for the rest of the summer instead of going to Grandma’s could I please oh please oh please say yes please please pl—"

“HERMIONE!” her mother shouts. Hermione snaps her mouth shut and bounces on her feet as she waits. 

“Please repeat your question, dear. _Slowly_.”

She takes a deep breath and concentrates on speaking clearly. “Draco said that his mum offered for me to stay at their house for the rest of the summer instead of staying with Grandma. Could I _please_ stay with the Malfoys instead? It’s not that I don’t want to stay with Grandma, but I’ll have a way better summer if I can stay with Draco and his family.”

Her mother hums, “I don’t see why not. The Malfoys were very good to you over New Year’s, and as long as Mrs. Malfoy doesn’t mind then I see no problem with it. What do you think, Richard?”

“Yes, I agree, dear,” her father says. 

Hermione squeals and runs up to her parents, pulling them into a crushing hug. “Oh, thank you! I’m going to go write back right away.” 

She flounces back upstairs and quickly writes out her letter, telling Draco yes, yes, _yes_ , that she would _love_ to stay with him the rest of the holiday. 

He responds back with as much excitement as she’s feeling and tells her that his mother will pick her up. He asks her what day and time she’ll need someone to arrive, and she eagerly sends him the information. They exchange excited goodbyes and express how they can’t wait to see each other in two days. 

Too keyed up to go to sleep yet, Hermione drags out her trunk and begins to pack for her stay, face aching from her large smile.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_July 30th, 2015_

Hermione’s body is vibrating with her excitement as she sits on the couch, trunk and Crookshanks at her side. Feet tapping and fingers anxiously fiddling with the blanket lying next to her. She can hear her parents moving around upstairs, packing up the last of their things. They need to leave for the train station in ten minutes. 

Narcissa will be here in five. 

Her jittering gets more intense. 

After exactly five minutes, she hears a knock on the door and jumps up from the couch, racing towards the noise. 

“I’ve got it!” She yells up the stairs to her parents. 

She reaches the door and rips it open, spotting Narcissa—elegant as ever—on the other side. 

“Hermione,” she greets, pulling her into a hug. 

“Hello, Narcissa.”

As they pull away, Hermione turns around at the sound of two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs. She steps to the side, motioning for Narcissa to come in, and shuts the door behind her. After quick introductions, a handy shrinking spell on her trunk, and goodbye hugs and kisses to her parents, Hermione grabs ahold of Narcissa’s arm with one hand and Crookshanks’ carrier in the other and braces herself for the squeezing feeling of apparition.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_August 8th, 2015_

Hermione has been at Malfoy Manor for a week now. As soon as she arrived, Draco pulled her away from Narcissa and gave her a tour of the whole Manor and the grounds. 

The place is _huge_. Even bigger than she remembered from the last time she was here. 

She had quickly decided that the Malfoy library was her absolute favorite room in the entire Manor. Floor to ceiling bookshelves, more bookshelves in organized rows throughout the room, and comfy lounge chairs hidden in little nooks. The smell of old books and the heat from the fireplace in the front of the room had her filling with joy as soon as she would enter through the intricate double doors. 

Any time not spent in the library was spent playing with Draco. She’s come to find that hide and seek in the giant Manor is almost impossible to win as the seeker. Especially against Draco, who knows all the best hiding places in the home. 

Her, Draco, and Narcissa—Lucius has been away for business her whole time here so far—spend every night in the formal dining room together for dinner. She finds it to be a bit silly to sit at such a large table when there is only three of them, but Draco insists that they always ate dinner there. 

Tonight is no different. The trio is sitting at the table, Hermione across from Draco and Narcissa sitting to his right, next to the empty head chair. Hermione laughs as Narcissa finishes telling a story about Lucius trying to woo her when they were in school. Reaching for a slice of bread and beginning to butter it, she starts to ask for another story when the doors to the dining room open. 

“Speak of the devil. Lucius, you’re home early,” Narcissa says to her husband as he strolls into the room. 

“You were talking about me? All good things I hope.” He sends her a wink before leaning down and kissing the top of her head. He pulls out the head chair and settles into it, food appearing before him. Courtesy of Mippy, Hermione is sure. He sends a nod his son’s way and then turns to her. “Draco. And Hermione, welcome back. I hope you’re enjoying your stay.”

“Very much, sir. Thank you for allowing me to stay here for break.”

“Our pleasure, Hermione, and enough of this sir thing. Call me Lucius.” 

Her lips quirk up in a bashful smile. “Lucius,” she amends. 

Hermione sees Narcissa open her mouth, a question on her tongue, when she feels a shift in the air. A pull in her magic that’s coming from the entrance to the room. Her body shifts to the feeling and she watches as Tom makes his way through the doors. 

_I must always feel when he’s there because his magic is so powerful_ , she reasons with herself. 

His eyes land on her, and his hard face relaxes and brightens with a grin. 

“Hermione,” he breathes out. 

“Hello, Tom.” She watches as he smoothly walks her way and pulls out the chair to her left, sinking into it. 

“Tom, I was just about to ask where you were. Welcome back,” Narcissa says. 

Eyes still on Hermione, he answers, “I had to drop something off in my room first.” Directing his next question to Hermione, he asks, “How has your summer break been so far, Hermione? I’m assuming you’ve already made yourself at home in the Manor’s library since you’ve been here.”

Her face splits into a wide grin. “Oh, yes! It’s magnificent! There are almost more books than Hogwart’s library.”

“I’ve told Mother that she may as well put a bed in there since Hermione is there basically as soon as her eyes open and leaves only when they start to close,” Draco adds. 

Hermione is too happy to be embarrassed about her extended time in the library. She’s never had a place where she feels more comfortable, happy, and at home in before. 

Well, maybe Tom’s office. 

But she doesn’t want to reflect too much on that. 

Lucius chuckles, “Oh no, Draco. We would have to move the library to her bedroom, not the other way around. Moving her room would be very upsetting to someone in the house, I’m sure.” 

Tom sends a glare to Lucius at this statement, but before Hermione can question what he means, Narcissa interrupts and asks about their travels, quickly changing the subject. 

Still confused, Hermione frowns, but the time for asking questions has already passed. She returns back to her food, relaxing with the easy conversation and laughter happening around her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_August 14th, 2015_

Hermione sits at the Baby Grand Piano in a lounge room in Malfoy Manor. She stumbled upon the shining, black instrument two days ago when she was taking a stroll through the Manor and she couldn’t wait to play it. She has been taking piano lessons since she was very young, and it’s become her second favorite thing to do—after reading of course. 

As she settles onto the plush piano stool, she reaches forward and begins to play Moonlight Sonata. 

Distantly, she feels Tom enter the room. He comes to stand by her, leaning against the side of the piano. Her heart speeds nervously at his gaze, but she continues to play. Avoiding his eyes, she keeps her own on her hands and the keys. 

As she finishes and the lilting sounds of the piano float away, she quickly moves into Clair de Lune to fill the silence. 

They stay that way, her playing song after song and him listening, until Mippy _pops_ in to drag them to dinner.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_September 19th, 2015_

Hermione enters Tom’s office with a skip to her steps. Today is her 13th birthday—she’s _finally_ a teenager.

This birthday has easily been one of the best she’s ever had. 

In the morning, she was surprised by all of her friends gathered in the Gryffindor common room with a cake covered in thirteen lit candles, screaming happy birthday and urging her to blow out the candles and make a wish. Which she happily did. 

They each had a special gift for her—mostly books of course, but lots of sweets too—and she treasured each and every one of them. She promised to read them all right away and to give a review on every one of them. 

They profusely assured her that that wasn’t necessary. 

They spent most of the day lounging around the common room, talking and laughing and telling jokes. Pansy and Daphne showing her how to use some of the hair potions they got her while the boys started a competitive game of Exploding Snap. 

When the girls made their way over to join in on the game, Hermione first took a step back to observe her unlikely group of friends. She smiled fondly as they all laughed at the card that just exploded in Theo’s hands. Growing up in the muggle world, other children always kept her at a distance. Whether it be from her studious nature or a subconscious knowledge that she was different from them, Hermione didn’t know. Regardless, she never imagined that she would have even one friend, let alone the large group she has now. She loves them all so much, and she’s so grateful to Hogwarts for bringing them to her. 

“Hermione.”

Pulled out of her reminiscing, she grins at Tom and settles into the seat across from him at his desk. It’s a Saturday, but she spends every evening studying with Tom—weekday or weekend. 

“Tom. How has your day been?” she asks. 

“I should be asking you that question. It’s your big day. Happy birthday, Hermione.” 

Her eyes widen as he sets a rectangular box down on the desk in front of her. 

She shakes her head. “Tom, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Of course I had to get you something. You only become a teenager once in your life.” He pushes the box closer to her. “Open it,” he says. 

Slowly, she reaches forward and picks up the box. She carefully unwraps the bow and removes the lid. She gasps as the contents come into view. A small, silver charm bracelet with a book charm and a witch’s hat charm rests on the white pillow in the box. 

She gently touches the bracelet, but pulls her hand away, afraid to somehow break it. 

Eyebrows raised and face vulnerable, she looks up. “Tom, it’s beautiful, but it’s too much. I can’t accept this.” She stretches out her arm, gift in front of him to take back. 

“No, Hermione, it’s yours,” he refuses, pushing her hand back towards her. “You deserve it. I want you to have it. Here, let me put it on.” 

He grabs the box out of her hand and removes the bracelet, holding out his hand for her own. She hesitantly hands over her right hand. He wraps the bracelet around her wrist and clasps it shut, fingers lightly brushing against her wrist. She shivers at the touch. 

“There.” He grabs her hand and turns her wrist to look at the bracelet settled against her skin. “Beautiful,” he says as he looks up into her eyes, still holding onto her hand. 

She blushes and pulls her hand away, looking at the way the charms move around her wrist. 

“It is. Thank you so much, Tom. You really didn’t have to.” 

“I did. It’s perfect for you, Hermione,” he tells her. She can’t quite pinpoint the emotion in his tone. 

Embarrassed at the attention, she turns her gaze to her bag. Pulling out her books, the moment ends and they both move on to their work. An easy silence falling between them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_December 31st, 2016_

Hermione walks through the ballroom in Malfoy Manor with Pansy and Daphne. They dart between the rich attendees of the annual New Year’s Eve party, giggling about the cute boys they saw standing with Draco, Theo, and Blaise. Hermione had a great time last year and the year before with just the boys, but she’s happy to have the girls there to spend time with this year. 

As they make their way over to the food table to find something to eat, they come across Narcissa talking to Abraxas. As they pass by them, they overhear a snippet of their conversation. 

“I hate that Tom won’t let us celebrate his birthday,” Narcissa sighs. 

“You know how he is,” Abraxas responds with a chuckle. “He hates any kind of attention. Especially in front of a large group of people. He was cursed with having a birthday on one of the most celebrated holidays in the world.”

Their voices fade away as the group of girls continue on their mission for food. 

“Did you know today was Professor Riddle’s birthday, Hermione?” Pansy asks her. 

She frowns. “No. I didn’t.” She glances around the room, trying to find the man in question. 

“How could anyone _not_ want to celebrate their birthday? I could _never_!” Daphne exclaims. 

“You just don’t want to go without gifts.”

“Shut up, Pansy.”

As the girls bicker, Hermione finally spots Tom standing alone near the balcony doors. She walks off towards him, not bothering to let the girls know where she’s going as they’re too busy with each other at the moment. 

Tom smiles when he notices her coming towards him. 

“Hermione, how has yo—”

“Why didn’t you tell me today was your birthday,” she interrupts angrily. 

His eyes widen. “I—”

“You know when my birthday is, and you got me this present.” She holds up her hand, jangling the charm bracelet on her wrist. “I thought we were friends. Friends are supposed to know when each other’s birthdays are. Is it something I did? Do you not trust me to know? Please t—”

He cuts off her rant with a hand over her mouth. “Hermione, I didn’t not tell you for a specific reason. I just don’t care much for celebrating my birthday. I don’t like the attention, so I like to forget about.” 

She pulls away from his hand, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. “Well, that won’t do. You can’t not celebrate. We’ll have Mippy make you something, and I can at least be there while you blow out the candle. Just us. No one else. No big spectacle.” 

He smiles fondly down at her and lightly pinches her cheek. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you want. Just us.” 

“Good,” she smiles smugly, happy to have her way. “I’ll go find Mippy.” She turns to do just that, then abruptly spins back around. “Oh! And happy birthday, Tom.” Her eyes crinkle with her smile and she continues on to find Mippy, Tom’s lips quirked affectionately behind her back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_November 8th, 2017_

Hermione finishes stirring the potion three times clockwise and turns back to her notes to see what needs to be added next. She reaches for the lacewing flies and notices too late that Neville is dropping fluxweed into the caldron. Before she can stop him, the ingredient hits the potion and it instantly explodes, flinging them back into the table behind them. 

Students scream and, after realizing what happened and to _who_ , Professor Snape pushes students out of his way to get through to Hermione and Neville. 

Neville groans and slowly sits up, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead and clutching his right arm. Hermione continues to lay passed out on the floor. 

Snape kneels beside Hermione and tries to wake her up to no avail. Seeing that she’s still breathing, he picks her up and heads out of the room. Passing by Draco, he says, “Go get him. Now.” 

Knowing who he means, Draco nods and runs out the room and up to the third floor. Reaching his destination, he bangs open the classroom door and rushes inside.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tom is in the middle of a lesson with 5th year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs when his door is slammed open and a breathless Draco Malfoy comes running inside. Stopping midsentence at the surprising interruption, Tom narrows his eyes. “Mr. Mal—”

“Hospital wing,” Draco gasps, breathing heavy from his sprint. 

Tom’s eyes widen, immediately knowing who he’s referring to. Leaving no instructions with his class, he hurries out of the room, Draco right behind him. He runs madly through the halls, no students around to witness his erratic behavior, but uncaring if they were. His thoughts only on his mate. _She’s fine. She’s okay. I would know if something was wrong. She’s fine._

He finally reaches the hospital wing and—out of his control—his magic slams the doors open. He zeroes in on Hermione right away. She’s sitting up in bed, awake, but nursing her left arm that looks slightly bent. His eyes narrow at the tear tracks on her face. 

He storms her way, but he’s stopped by a hand on his arm. He turns to lash out, but holds himself back when he recognizes Severus beside him. 

“She’s fine,” Severus assures him. “There was a potions accident, but she’s fine. She broke her arm and has a concussion. Nothing fatal.” 

Still worried, he rips his arm away and strides over to Hermione’s side. He leans down and moves close to her, scanning her body for any more injuries. He notes a few cuts on her face and a bruise forming on her right calf. 

“I’m perfectly fine, Tom. It was just an accident,” Hermione says. “You don’t have to stay here.” 

He grabs her right hand with his own and uses his left to push her hair behind her ear. Settling back into the chair, he doesn’t answer her, but continues to hold her hand and refuses to leave until she’s released. 

Neither notice the exasperated looks exchanged between Snape and Madam Pomfrey.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!! I am soooooo so so sorry this has taken so long! I’ve been super busy at work and honestly just procrastinating! But here we are! THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT!!! Now, I was going to have the Yule Ball in this chapter, but it started to get too long and I wanted to get this out ASAP since it’s been so long! Here’s this and hopefully it won’t take me too long to get the next chapter out! I’m soooo excited to write that one (winkwink)
> 
> Just a couple notes for this chapter:  
> If it looks familiar, it’s because I followed along heavily with the Goblet of Fire movie! I needed an outline to base this on, so you’ll find a lot of that in here! I definitely did NOT create that, and I’m just using it for my own creative purposes!  
> And also, just a reminder that because Tom never became Voldemort, Harry’s parents are alive, and Barty Crouch Jr. never showed up as Mad Eye Moody so he won’t be in this and no one submitted Harry for the tournament! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone again who has read, reviewed, liked, followed, etc.! You guys are why I’m doing this!

_September 1st, 2018_

Hermione waves a final goodbye to her parents as she climbs the steps onto the Hogwarts Express for her 5th year. She moves Crookshank’s carrier in front of her to make room for others as she walks down the aisle, looking in each compartment in search of her friends. 

“Hermione!” 

She whips her head up and beams as she spots Pansy sticking her head out of a compartment down the row. Pansy waves her over and she apologizes as she moves passed people to make her way down the cramped aisle. 

As she finally steps into the compartment, she spots Daphne and her younger sister Astoria seated on a bench. Daphne jumps up and her and Pansy crush Hermione into a hug. 

“Hermione! I missed you so much!” Daphne exclaims. 

“I missed you guys, too!”

“How was your summer?” Pansy asks. “Did you have fun traveling?”

“It was great! I’m glad to be headed back to school and to see all of you, though!”

As the girls pull away from her, they each grab ahold of one of her hands and hold her arms out. 

“Damn, Hermione! Where did these boobs come from?” Pansy questions with a wink.

Face growing red, Hermione pulls at her arms to cross over her chest, but the girls refuse to let go. 

“And those curves!” Daphne pulls her forward and leans over to look behind her. “And that butt! Summer did you _very_ well, Hermione.” 

To her absolute horror, Draco, Zabini, and Theo chose that moment to walk into the compartment. The girls finally allow her to rip her arms away to wrap them around herself as she plops down on the bench next to a grinning Astoria. They giggle as the boys start to take their seats. 

“They’re not wrong, Granger,” Theo says with a smirk as he looks her up and down.

“You’re looking very womanly this year,” Blaise throws in. 

“Hey!” Draco whacks them both on the back of their heads. “You lot better watch the way you talk about her,” he says as he throws a meaningful glare their way. 

Hermione throws him a grateful smile and they all quickly switch to talking about their summers as the train sets off towards Hogwarts.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The rest of Hermione’s time on the train was spent on more innocent topics that were _not_ about her newfound curves. Halfway through the ride, Hermione, Draco, and Pansy had to leave their friends to head towards their first prefect meeting of the year. Hermione proudly showcasing her prefect badge the whole ride.

Now, the three of them are walking through the Entrance Hall doors into the school. 

Well, _hurrying_ may be more accurate in her case. 

She spent the summer traveling Europe with her parents and wasn’t able to make what has become her customary summer visit to Malfoy Manor. 

Meaning: she hasn’t seen Tom since school let out at the beginning of summer. 

They’ve written of course, but even that was few and far between because of how busy she was. Neither of them is accustomed to such little contact with each other. 

They’ve grown quite close over the last four years. Practically best friends. At least, Hermione thinks of him in that way. She knows it’s strange for a professor to befriend a student, but—despite how old he _actually_ is—physically, Tom is young and very close to Hermione’s age. They have a lot of similarities and they spend so much time together, both in school and out at the Malfoy’s, that a friendship was bound to happen. 

While she had a spectacular time traveling with her parents and spending much needed time with them, she couldn’t help but to agonize over her missed time with her best friend. 

This brings her to the present, where she’s _finally_ about to make her way through the doors of the Great Hall. She can feel his magic and she knows that he’s already in there and she _needs_ to see him. 

She accidentally bumps into Draco as she tries to push her way through the crowd to get into the hall faster. 

“Oi, watch out, Hermione!” Draco rubs against his side that’s surely stinging from the sharp point of her elbow. 

A guilty look crosses her face. “Sorry, Draco.”

“He’s not going anywhere, you know,” he says with a smirk. “He’ll still be there whenever you walk in. No need to get physical.” 

Her guilt is quickly replaced with a glare that she throws over her shoulder at him. He just laughs as they walk through the doors and separate to go to their respective House tables. 

As she slowly pushes her way through the crowd and to a seat at the Gryffindor table closest to the head table, she finally spots him. 

Tom is sitting in his usual seat next to Professor Snape and he already has his eyes on her. She smiles wide and lifts her hand high above the other students, waving it frantically at him. His standard blank expression relaxes into a smile and he sends her a smaller, more graceful wave back. Her brow furrows as she takes in how exhausted he looks. Even from far away, she can spot the dark circles under his eyes and the sag of his shoulders. 

She lets out a startled _yelp_ as she’s tugged sharply to the side by a hand on her elbow. 

She whips around, mouth open and ready to snap, but she closes it when she notices Neville sitting behind her. 

“Sorry, Hermione! You weren’t paying attention, and someone was about to run into you.”

“Thank you, Neville! I was distracted,” she says as she turns back Tom’s way. He’s facing Snape, looking deep in conversation, so she turns back around and settles onto the bench beside Neville. 

The last of the students file into the Great Hall and take their seats. The room buzzes with the sound of excited chatter for few minutes until it filters off as Professor McGonagall ushers the first years in to be sorted. The sorting goes by quickly, Hermione and Neville cheering along when someone is sorted into Gryffindor and politely clapping for the other houses. 

After the last student is sorted and sits with their new housemates, Dumbledore stands to give his welcoming speech. 

“Welcome, everyone. I have some special news for all of you this year. This castle will not only be your home this year, but it will also be home to some very special gets.” He pauses as murmurs of speculation vibrate through the room. “You see, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event: the Triwizard Tournament.” 

Gasps and cheers erupt from students throughout the hall. Hermione looks across the table to Fred and George Weasley as they high five and animatedly start throwing words back and forth. 

“What’s the Triwizard Tournament?” she asks aloud to the table, confused. 

Dumbledore continues before anyone can answer. “For those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school, a single student is chosen to compete.” Hermione looks down the table and sees Ron thumping his chest at this. Clearly thinking he’ll be chosen. She rolls her eyes. “Let me be clear: if chosen, you stand alone. Trust me when I say, these contests are not for the faint of heart.” A somber silence hangs over the room. Brightly, he continues, “But more of that later! For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and their Headmistress, Madame Maxime.”

Hermione’s attention turns to the entrance doors as they burst open and the most elegant and graceful girls she’s ever seen float into the room. She rolls her eyes as she sees the boys around her mooning at the sight of them. Her eyes widen and she gapes as she notices the giant woman trailing along after them. She’s easily the tallest woman she’s ever seen. 

“That’s one _big_ woman,” she hears Seamus say to Ron. She nods her head to herself in agreement. 

Students stand to applaud and whistle as they stop at the head table. The boys the loudest of the lot. Hermione slowly claps as she looks around in bewilderment. 

Dumbledore greets Madame Maxime and kisses her outstretched hand before making his way back to the podium. “Now our friends from the north,” he says. “Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang, and their Highmaster, Igor Karkaroff.”

They all turn back to the doors as a group of rugged and burly boys march in, thumping staffs on the ground and chanting. They all sit up and gasp as the Durmstrang boys rush forward and some start to do cartwheels and flips down the aisle. 

Hermione vaguely hears Ron exclaim, “Blimey, it’s him! Viktor Krum!” She watches as a boy a couple of years older than them storms towards the front of the room, a man who she assumes is Igor Karkaroff close at his heels. They make their way to the front of the room and Dumbledore greets Karkaroff with a hug. 

As Karkaroff steps to the side, Dumbledore rushes forward. “Hogwarts! Let’s entertain our friends in the best way we can.” He raises his arms. “All stand!”

Hermione turns to Neville and they roll their eyes at each other as they all start in on their school song. They smile as they see the bewildered looks on the visiting students’ faces. She looks towards Draco and laughs as she sees him barely moving his lips along to the words. Then there’s Tom and Professor Snape, reluctantly standing but mouths as tight as if they were sewn together. She smiles fondly as they finally finish with the song and sit to eat. 

Midway through the meal, Filch and a couple other men lift in a large golden statue decorated with extravagant jewels and patterns. Dumbledore gets up from his seat and walks over to stand beside it. 

“Attention, please,” he says. “I’d like to say a few words. Eternal glory. That’s what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do this, that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks.” 

“Wicked,” Fred and George say. Hermione breathes out an exasperated sigh. 

“For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain all of this, we have the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartemius Crouch.” A man in Ministry robes makes his way up to the platform to join Dumbledore by the statue. The man clears his throat, quieting the students. 

“After due consideration, the Ministry has concluded that for their own safety, no student under the age of 17 should be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament,” he says along with growing jeers of outrage from all of the underage students. “This decision is final!”

“That’s rubbish! That’s rubbish! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Fred and George yell out across the hall. Many students joining in their exclamations. The twins are in their 7th year, but they’re still 16 for another couple of months. 

“I think that’s perfectly reasonable,” she whispers in Neville’s ear amid the shouts and complaints. “If it’s as dangerous as they’re saying, then it makes sense that only a student of age should be allowed to enter.”

Neville nods in agreement and opens his mouth to reply, but snaps it shut as Dumbledore yells for silence. 

They all turn their attention forward to see Dumbledore lift his wand to the top of the statue. Slowly, the outside of it dissolves to reveal a goblet. They all stare, speechless, as a bright blue flame appears above it. 

“The Goblet of Fire!” Dumbledore announces. “Anyone wishing to submit themselves to the tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there’s no turning back. As from this moment, the Triwizard Tournament has begun.”

Announcements done for the evening, they all return to their meal. Hermione chats with Neville about their classes tomorrow, ignoring the chatter about the tournament. 

“Absolute bloody rubbish that there’s an age limit. If the Goblet chooses whoever is worthy, then why should it matter how old they are?” she hears Ron complain. 

Unable to help herself, she angles herself towards him. “You heard Professor Dumbledore, Ronald. These games are dangerous. They’re smart to not let anyone underage participate. Imagine a student who only has an introductory level of teaching being chosen. That’s highly dangerous and it would be reckless of them to let something like that happen.” 

He rolls his eyes. “I highly doubt someone that young would even be chosen, Hermione. How could they be worthy if they barely know any spells?” 

“Maybe they’re worthy in personality and bravery, but not in their level of magic. Anything can happen, Ron.” 

He opens his mouth to retort again, but before he can she continues. “Regardless, I think it’s stupid either way. It’s completely mad to expect children, even those of age, to participate in such a dangerous tournament for strictly the sake of others’ entertainment,” she huffs. 

Ron’s eyes light and his face grows red with anger. “You don’t know anything, Hermione! Why don’t stick to your books and leave the real stuff to us? You’re always stuffed up in the library or in Riddle’s office. You couldn’t possibly understand something as important as this. Why don’t you go kiss Riddle’s arse like you always do and get out of our hair?” 

The twins gasp in indignation on her behalf. 

“Oi!”

“Hey now!”

Even Harry jumps in. “Ron, that was uncalled for.” 

Too furious to argue any further, she jumps up from the table and storms out of the Great Hall. As she leaves, she hears Ron reply back to Harry, “What? She’s a right know-it-all and I’m sick of her haughty attitude.”

She steams as she stomps up the stairs and through the halls. Ever since Tom scolded Ron for making fun of her in first year, he’s been fine to her. Not nice, and she’s heard plenty of jabs towards her from him, but he’s never been outright cruel. She knows that she riled him up with her remarks about the tournament, but he needs to grow up and not be so hotheaded. _What an absolute child. He has no reason to even be mad; he would never be deemed worthy to compete in the games._

Belatedly, she realizes she’s unconsciously made her way to Tom’s office. Knowing he’s still in the Great Hall, but that he won’t care, she makes her way inside and sits at her normal seat while she stews in anger. 

She jumps as the door slams open and Tom comes barreling into the room. His eyes lock onto her and he intently moves her way. 

“To—” 

“What did he say to you?” he demands as he finally stops in front of her. 

“I—he—who—what?” she stammers. 

He leans in close, hands on the armrests on either side of her. “That bumbling idiot, Weasley. What did he say that upset you?” 

She blushes at his proximity. “Nothing. It’s not important.” 

“What. Did. He. _Say_.” If possible, he leans in closer. 

Hesitantly, she answers, “It’s stupid. We were arguing about the tournament and he made some rude comments. They just made me angry. It’s really not a big deal.” 

“What kind of comments?” 

She sighs. “Just that I’m a know-it-all and I should stick to my books and I couldn’t possibly understand this situation. That I’m always in the library and here and that I should—” she cuts herself off before she can repeat the end of what Ron had said. Her face grows red in embarrassment at the thought. 

“That you should what, Hermione?” His eyes dart between hers, demanding that she answer. 

Her face heats even more and she stares at the wall over his shoulder. “That I should go kiss your arse like I always do and get out of their hair.” 

He inhales sharply through his nose and pushes himself up, his body tense. She misses the way his eyes flash silver as he turns away from her. She counts a full minute before he turns back around, eyes back to normal and his body more relaxed. 

“Weasley is an imbecile. Don’t take anything he says to heart.”

“I don’t,” she huffs and crosses her arms. He looks down at the movement and his eyes narrow. She glances down and sees that the pressure has pushed up her breasts and emphasizes how much they’ve grown over the summer. She jerks her arms back to her sides and avoids his eyes. “He just made me mad. I don’t seriously care what he thinks.” 

“Good," he says. "You’re better than him.” 

She opens her mouth to protest, knowing no one is better than anyone else, but he interrupts. 

“That’s enough of that.” He walks around her to sit at his desk. “Tell me about your summer.” 

She smiles as she starts to tell him about her time with her parents, Ron and his annoying comments forgotten.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Monday, during a break in their classes, some of the students make their way to the Great Hall to watch as students throw their name into the Goblet of Fire. Hermione couldn’t care less, but Draco, Blaise, and Theo dragged her along with them to watch.

She soon realized they only wanted to make fun of everyone that they thought was unworthy of the chance. She’s sure her eyes are one more roll away from just falling out. She opens a book and tries to ignore them. 

She looks up at one point to see a Hufflepuff, Cedric Diggory, walk in and throw his name in the Goblet amid loud cheers from the crowd. She vaguely knows of him, but she thinks she has heard that he’s pretty crafty with a wand. 

“I really wish I could support that one, but anyone from Hufflepuff is already out in my book,” Theo says from behind her. 

“Mhmm,” Draco and Blaise reply. She rolls her eyes yet again. 

Fred and George come running into the room, shouting and jumping around to the cheers of the students surrounding them. They each throw a hand holding a potion vial up into the air with a shout. 

“We did it!” exclaims George. 

“An aging potion!” Fred explains. 

“It’s not going to worrrkk,” she says, her voice lilting up on the last word. 

The twins jump onto the bench behind her, the Slytherin boys moving out of the way with disgusted grunts. Fred and George crowd around either side of her. 

“And why is that?”

“You see this line?” She motions to the magical line surrounding the Goblet. “That’s an age restriction line. Dumbledore himself drew it. I don’t think a simple potion is going to able to trick it.” 

“Ye of little faith.” 

They straighten up and clink the vials together before downing them. They clasp hands and jump off the bench over the age line. For a second, everyone holds their breath. After nothing happens, the room begins to cheer. The twins rush forward and throw their names into the Goblet and almost instantly, their faces start to grow wrinkles and long gray beards as the Goblet rejects their submissions. 

Hermione chuckles and shakes her head as everyone laughs and starts cheering on the now fighting redheads. 

The room goes silent as the doors swing open and Karkaroff walks in with Viktor Krum. Everyone turns to stare at them as they make their way into the room. Viktor crosses over the age line with no problem and submits his name into the Goblet. 

He turns to leave the room, but before he walks off, he locks eyes with Hermione and he sends her a smirk. She quickly turns back to her book, face flushing red. 

As the doors close behind them, the room thunders with the sudden noise of people talking—the boys exclaiming their admiration for Krum and the girls fawning over his looks. 

Hermione startles as someone grabs onto her shoulders and shakes her. 

“Did you see the way he looked at you?!” Theo asks as he grips onto her. 

“Krum gave you the _eyes_ , Granger. _Damn_ ,” Blaise waggles his eyebrows. 

Draco stays quiet as the other two boys continue to harass her. 

She slams her book closed and jumps up. “I’ll see you all in class,” she tells them as she grabs her bag and scurries out of the room and away from their laughs.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That Friday, the day after the cutoff for competing in the tournament, the whole school and all the visitors gather in the Great Hall for the choosing of the champions. 

“Now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” Dumbledore says as he reaches out to dim the fire lighting the room. He grabs onto the Goblet, then takes a step back as the fire changes color and spits out a piece of parchment. Dumbledore catches the paper and gently opens it. “The Durmstrang champion is,” he gives a slight pause. “Viktor Krum!”

Everyone claps as Viktor’s friends cheer and thump him on the back as he stands up to move towards Dumbledore, shaking his hand before he’s ushered out of the room. 

The Goblet spits out another name and Dumbledore announces, “The Beauxbatons champion is Fleur Delacour!” Applause rings out as a beautiful blonde shakes Dumbledore’s hand and makes her way through to where Viktor exited. 

Dumbledore grabs for the final piece of parchment and exclaims, “The Hogwarts champion: Cedric Diggory!” Thunderous applause shakes the room as all the Hogwarts students stand to cheer for their champion. Cedric follows Viktor and Fleur’s lead and exits the room. 

“Didn’t see that one coming,” Draco says from beside her. 

Arms wide, Dumbledore yells out, “Excellent! We now have our three champions.” Solemnly he adds, “But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions. This vessel of victory. The Triwizard Cup!” He spins around as Mr. Crouch whips the cloth cover off of a shining blue cup. Cheers ring through the room and students from each school begin to chant the name of their champion in support. 

Hermione shakes her head at the extravagance of it all, but she’s moved into chanting and clapping along by her friends. 

They’re all calmed down and instructed to head back to their dorms for the night. Hermione waves goodbye to her friends as they separate in the Entrance Hall—her going up and them going down.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

By Thursday, the talk of the tournament has tremendously calmed down. Hermione is very grateful for that fact seeing as how it’s her 16th birthday. She’s pretty sure she would explode if the only thing people were talking about on her birthday was this reckless competition. Thankfully, with the first competition months away, it’s moved to the back of everyone’s minds for now.

As Hermione walks down the steps on her way to the Great Hall for breakfast, she’s accosted by her large group of Slytherin friends. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” They all scream, running to pull her down the stairs and into a group hug. She laughs as they squeeze her as tight as they can. 

“Stop! I can’t breathe!” she manages to get out between her laughs. 

They release her and proceed to pull her into the Great Hall and towards the Slytherin table to sit with them. They shove wrapped packages her way, urging her to open her gifts. Neville had given her a gift in the common room before he left for breakfast—a lovely book that she’s been talking to him about the last couple of weeks. 

She opens all her gifts and thanks every one of her friends individually with a hug. She’s always so joyful on her birthday. She never imagined she would have such a large group of friends that cared so much about her and that would make her day so special. 

Chatting amongst themselves, they start to eat breakfast. Hermione looks up at one point to find Tom sitting at the head table, looking her way. He sends her a smile and she beams back at him, holding up her new stack of books proudly for him to see. He chuckles and shakes his head at her excitement. Her attention is pulled away from him and over to Pansy when she asks her a question about their Charms homework due tomorrow.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That day after classes, Hermione makes her way to Tom’s office. She reaches the door to the room and pulls it open, familiar enough to not feel obligated to knock. Tom glances up as she walks in and drops his quill to reach into a drawer of his desk.

As she sits in the chair in front of him, he pulls a box out of the drawer and lays it on the desk in front of her. 

“Happy birthday, Hermione,” he says. 

“Thank you, Tom.” She reaches for the box, knowing that a new charm for her bracelet will be inside. She opens the box to reveal a delicate silver snake charm. Her brow furrows as she carefully grabs it and holds it up. She turns her questioning eyes up to him. 

Before she can ask, he explains, “It’s a reminder of your friends. Since they’re in Slytherin.” His mouth turns up in a smirk and he continues. “And I was in Slytherin, too.”

Her face flushes as she focuses her attention onto the charm. “I love it,” she tells him. She holds up her left arm to give herself access to the bracelet that she’s worn for the last three years. She clasps the new snake charm onto it beside the H charm from last year and the cat charm from the year before. 

As she holds her arm up to admire her growing collection, he goes on, “I also like to believe that you were missorted and that you really belong in Slytherin, too.” He grins as she narrows her eyes. 

“Very funny,” she deadpans. 

He sends her a wink and picks up his quill to go back to grading. She follows his lead and pulls her Potions essay out of her bag to start working on it. 

As she writes about the properties of a bezoar, she sneaks glances up at Tom. She can’t help but notice how much better he looks compared to her first night back. The circles under his eyes are nonexistent and he he’s holding himself up straighter like he normally does. 

Her eyes scan down his body, taking in his broad shoulders and his defined arms. The veins in his forearms, on display from his rolled-up sleeves, pop out as he writes. She feels a tightening in her stomach as she continues to take him in. Her quill resting against her lips as her mouth opens to take in deep breaths. Her heart starts beating faster and she can feel her palms beginning to sweat. 

She knows he’s attractive, of course. Even if she didn’t know, she had every girl in this school that could tell her so. She never paid much attention to his looks, however. But now, she can’t help but notice how much taller and broader than her he is. How easily she could just wrap her arms around him and fit into his chest. How she could just move her hand across the desk and grasp onto his, pulling him closer and—

The sound of Tom clearing his throat rips her out of her thoughts. A heat flushes from her chest, up her neck, and over her face as she looks up to see him watching her. 

He opens his mouth, but before he can speak, she jumps out of her chair, picks up her homework and her bag, and rushes towards the door. 

“I have to go!” she squeaks. “I have to meet—uh—um—Pansy. Yeah, Pansy. To do—um—hair st-stuff. Yeah. Um, thank you for the gift! Bye!” She rushes out of the room and only slows her pace as she makes it to the stairs leading up to the Gryffindor common room. She leans up against the wall, head tilted back as she tries to catch her breath. 

As she stops, her mind instantly brings up images of Tom pulling her close again. She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, trying to rid herself of those thoughts. 

“Shut up, Hermione. What are you thinking? He’s your professor. Your _friend_! Calm down!” she continues to berate herself until her mind slows down enough for her to make her way up the stairs and up to her dorm. As she gets ready for bed, she occupies her mind with thoughts floating from books to homework to her parents, trying to keep away from thoughts of _him_. 

She finally lays down for bed, and despite her best efforts, she quickly drowns into dreams filled with stormy eyes, dark hair, and soft lips.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AND WE'RE BACK!! Here's a little insight into Tom's mind from last chapter for everyone who wanted it! Also, everyone please just assume Viktor is talking in a heavily accented voice. It was too much to try and figure out how to write it in like that hahahahah
> 
> Enjoy!!

_September 1st, 2018_

Tom sits at the head table as the students crowd into the Great Hall for the first time this year. His attention is focused on the door, waiting for one student in particular to breach through the threshold. 

“Don’t you think you’re being a little obvious?” Severus asks from his side. 

He ignores him and continues to stare. 

Hermione traveled most of the summer with her parents, so he hasn’t seen her since school let out last year. That’s the longest they’ve gone without physically being near each other since they met four years ago. 

He hadn’t prepared for how much the separation would take a toll on his health. He had trouble sleeping over the duration of the summer holiday, and he’s lost weight and strength as a result of a lack of appetite. His eyes look hollow and his skin has grown sallow. Narcissa has been fretting over him for weeks, to his utter dismay and annoyance. 

Every day he had to hold himself back from going to her. He was overwhelmed with the need to know that she was alright and to protect her, but he knew that he couldn’t just show up with no explanation. 

He held off on telling her that she was his mate when she was young because he didn’t want to frighten her. His original plan was to take her aside and tell her as soon as he saw her, but when he found out she was muggleborn, that plan dissolved. Everything she thought she knew was already flipped upside down, and he knew that telling her that she was destined to be with someone would be too much. It’s now been four years, and he hasn’t found an opportune moment to bring it up. So, he just…

…hasn’t. 

Despite this, they’ve still grown closer as she’s gotten older. They spend every night together in his office during the school year, talking about anything and everything. This is always his favorite part of the day and he looks forward to this time every night. He craves any time he gets to spend with her. He cares more for her than he cares about anything. Even himself. 

Although Hermione doesn’t know that she’s his mate, it didn’t take long for the news to spread among the staff. One look from him, though, and they all knew to keep the information quiet, but that didn’t stop them from gossiping with each other. He’s gotten better at ignoring it and not wanting to murder them when they do. 

Sometimes. 

Like anyone, he has his bad days. 

His back straightens as his body is flooded with what he now knows is a sharp twinge of her magic. It seeks out his own and molds around his body, already helping him relax and fueling his own power. 

He spots her as soon as she steps through the doors. She’s turning her head forward, a glare melting off her face. A quick glance behind her shows him a laughing Draco, easily explaining the look on her face. 

He watches as she hurries into the room, uncharacteristically pushing others out of her way as she makes her way closer to the front of the room. Closer to him. 

Finally, she looks up and finds him. His heart races as her face brightens into a wide smile and she lifts her arm to wave her hand wildly above her head. He smiles and sends a more modest wave back. He sees a thoughtful look pass over her face as she looks him over before she’s yanked to the side and she turns her eyes away from him. 

His fists clench at someone manhandling _his_ mate. His eyes flash to the culprit: Neville Longbottom. He tenses, ready to go to her when Severus speaks. 

“If you could turn your eyes away from her for just a moment, you would see that someone was about to run into her.”

He whips his head sharply to the side to face him. “What?”

“Mr. Jones was walking up behind her and neither of them were paying attention. He was about to run into her, but Mr. Longbottom pulled her out of the way so she wouldn’t get knocked into. You should be thanking him instead of preparing yourself to tear him to pieces.” He smirks. 

His muscles relax and he leans back into his seat once the words sink in. “Hmm, I suppose that’s fine then.”

“Yes, I suppose it would be,” Severus chuckles. 

He ignores him as the last of the students settle into their seats and Minerva leads the new batch of first years into the room to be sorted. 

The sorting commences as usual, Tom and Severus clapping along after every student is sorted into their new house. Severus turns to Tom after about half the students have been sorted. “How much do you think this competition is going to blow up in Dumbledore’s face?”

Tom chuckles. “Hopefully, as much as I’m thinking it’s going to. Nothing says good education more than putting children in reckless danger for the amusement of others.” 

The sorting quickly finishes, and Dumbledore stands to announce the Triwizard Tournament. Tom distractedly watches as the students turn from excitement at the announcement, to amazement when the visitors enter, and then end with anger when told of the age restriction. His distraction clearly being Hermione. He smirks as he easily reads her annoyance on her open face, already knowing she wouldn’t approve of such a dangerous event. 

Everyone settles to eat as the night’s emotions settle down. Midway through the meal, Tom glances up at Hermione and notices what looks like an argument between her and Ron Weasley. He sets his cutlery down and turns his full focus on the two, narrowing his eyes as he sees Weasley’s face turn red in anger. 

Suddenly, he sees Weasley say something to Hermione that causes shock to cover the faces of everyone surrounding them and Hermione to jump up and storm out of the Great Hall. He clenches his jaw as he instantly pushes away from the table and marches out of the room after her. 

She’s already gone when he makes it to the Entrance Hall, but in his rage, his Veela side is already instinctually following the call of her magic. He climbs the stairs, quickly realizing that he’s heading towards his office. His insides purr in pleasure that she would come to him first. 

He throws the door open and finds Hermione sitting next to his desk. The door slams against the wall and closes with a bang behind him as he strides over to her. 

“To—” 

“What did he say to you?” he demands as he finally stops in front of her. 

“I—he—who—what?” she stammers. 

He leans in close, hands on the armrests on either side of her. His heart thrums as her scent invades his senses. “That bumbling idiot, Weasley. What did he say that upset you?” 

“Nothing. It’s not important.” 

Irritation spikes in him as she tries to evade his question. He leans in closer, so her attention is only focused on him. “What. Did. He. _Say_.” 

Hesitantly, she answers, “It’s stupid. We were arguing about the tournament and he made some rude comments. They just made me angry. It’s really not a big deal.” 

“What kind of comments?” 

She sighs. “Just that I’m a know-it-all and I should stick to my books and I couldn’t possibly understand this situation. That I’m always in the library and here and that I should—” she stops abruptly. His eyes narrow in suspicion. 

“That you should what, Hermione?” His eyes dart between hers, demanding that she answer. 

Her face grows visibly red and she turns her gaze over his shoulder. “That I should go kiss your arse like I always do and get out of their hair.” 

He inhales sharply through his nose and pushes himself up, his body tense. He spins away from her before she can see his reaction—his body physically changing as his rage towards Weasley grows. He breathes deeply for a full minute before he feels calm enough to face her again. He turns back to her. “Weasley is an imbecile. Don’t take anything he says to heart,” he says, calmly. 

“I don’t,” she huffs and crosses her arms. He looks down at the movement and his eyes automatically narrow in on her chest. He’s failed to notice until now how much her body has matured over the summer. He suddenly realizes that she’ll be turning 16 in just two weeks—a year away from being recognized as an adult in their world. 

She jerks her arms back to her sides, the movement causing him to snap out of his trance and to raise his eyes back to hers. He finds her avoiding his own. “He just made me mad. I don’t seriously care what he thinks.” 

“Good,” he says. “You’re better than him.” She opens her mouth and, knowing she’s about to disagree, he quickly says, “That’s enough of that.” He walks around her to sit at his desk. “Tell me about your summer.” 

She smiles as she starts to tell him about her time with her parents, Ron and his annoying comments forgotten.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tom’s sitting at his desk grading his second years’ essays when Hermione enters his office the day of her 16th birthday. As she sits in the chair in front of him, he pulls a box out of the drawer and lays it on the desk in front of her.

“Happy birthday, Hermione,” he says. 

“Thank you, Tom.” She reaches for the box and opens it, revealing a new charm for her bracelet. Seeing her questioning look and having anticipated her possible confusion over the meaning of the snake charm, he explains that it’s a reminder of her friends. And him, too. He jokes that it also symbolizes that she should’ve been sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. He smirks at her sarcastic reply. 

He returns to his grading and she pulls out her homework. They settle into a familiar, comfortable routine. Distantly, he notices a spike of something unidentifiable in the air. He absentmindedly continues grading as he focuses his attention on figuring out what it is. He inhales deeply, scenting something feminine—vanilla and some kind of flower, he thinks. Whatever it is, he can feel his body responding to it—his heartrate increases and he feels a tightening in his groin. 

Distracted, he stops grading and looks up at Hermione. His eyes widen he finds her staring at him—or more like ogling. Deep, wet breaths escape her lips, her quill resting lightly against them. He gapes at her as she continues her leering, her breaths steadily turning into quick gasps. The scent he noticed a moment ago spikes and he suddenly realizes what it is. His mate is aroused. And it’s because of _him_. 

Before he can do something he’ll regret, like jumping over his desk and crashing his lips to hers, he clears his throat. She jumps at the sound, her complexion flushing red as she finds him watching her. 

He opens his mouth, but before he can speak, she jumps out of her chair, picks up her homework and her bag, and rushes towards the door. 

“I have to go!” she squeaks. “I have to meet—uh—um—Pansy. Yeah, Pansy. To do—um—hair st-stuff. Yeah. Um, thank you for the gift! Bye!” She rushes out of the room before he can stop her. His body is screaming at him to follow after her, to claim what’s _his_ , but he controls his urges. 

Unable to put his focus back onto his grading, he leaves the room and retires to his quarters for bed. His dreams filled with soft curves under his hands and full lips on his own.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The rest of the semester flies by for Hermione. She finds her time fully taken up by her studies, time with friends, the excitement around her regarding the tournament, and, most importantly, trying to ignore her growing attraction to Tom. The latter she’s tried to achieve mostly by the use of avoidance. The evening after what she’s taken to call The Incident, she skipped out on studying with Tom for the first time since she started. When he caught her alone in the hallway the next day and confronted her over why she wasn’t there, she made up an excuse about promising Neville that she would study with him. She could tell that he didn’t quite believe her, but he didn’t question her further on it. She could tell he was worried about her and she felt bad about lying, but she was just too confused with her feelings right now.

After that first missed night, she realized that it was easier to ignore her confusing thoughts and feelings about him when she wasn’t near him. Hence her decision to move her evening study time out of his office and to the library. She knows he won’t believe any excuse as to why, so she’s taken to avoiding him any time he’s tried to get her alone, keeping at least one of her friends with her at all times. 

It’s pretty clear to her that he does _not_ like this plan, if his constant attempts to catch her by herself are anything to go by. She’s been lucky to get away from him so far, but she knows her luck will run out eventually. Until then, she’s going to continue with her plan. Or, at least until her feelings completely go away. Hopefully. 

She flips the page of the book in front of her, scanning the pages for examples to support her theory in the Charms essay she’s writing. A scuffle in the aisle next to her causes her to glance in that direction. At first, she’s nervous that it’s Tom, but she calms when she can’t feel his magic near her. She turns back to her homework, but a moment later a shadow falls over the parchment in front of her. She looks up and her eyes widen as she takes in Viktor Krum. She’s noticed him lurking around the library, usually with a gaggle of giggling fangirls behind him to her utter annoyance, but he’s never come up to her before. To her surprise and happiness, no girls are to be found. 

“Hello,” she says.

“Hello. Hermione Granger, yes?” he asks. She inwardly cringes as his accent slightly butchers her name.

“Yes, Hermione.”

“I am Viktor Krum.” 

“I know,” she laughs. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Viktor.” She holds her hand out for him to shake. 

Surprising her, he instead grabs onto it and brings it to his lips to plant a gentle kiss on the top. “It is a pleasure, Hermione.” She blushes as he releases her hand and she pulls it back to place in her lap. He gestures towards the chair across from her. “May I join you?” 

“Yes, yes, of course.” 

“You are in Gryffindor, yes?” he points at her tie and she nods. “You must be very brave then.”

“That’s what they say, but I don’t know about all of that,” she laughs. “Congratulations on winning the first task. Brilliant idea to use the Conjunctivitis curse.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” he smiles. 

Viktor continues to ask her questions about herself. She’s surprised to find that he doesn’t mind the fact that she’s muggleborn, as she’s aware that most pureblood wizards aren’t as forgiving. She learns that he’s not egotistical like she originally thought. He’s actually very humble and sweet. She’s enjoying their conversation more than she thought she would. 

“Oh!” she startles as her wand starts to vibrate, informing her it’s time to head down to dinner. “It’s gotten late.” She closes up her books and they both stand to leave. 

“May I escort you to dinner?” 

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Um, s-sure,” she stutters out. 

He holds out his elbow and she hesitantly grabs onto it with her free hand. He leads her downstairs to the Great Hall, jumping back into their conversation on their way. 

Walking through the entrance, he turns to face her and grabs her hand, pulling it back up to land another kiss on it. “Have a good night, Hermione. I hope to speak to you later.”

“Abso—” she gasps as a sharp flare of magic rips through her, feeling like it’s crowding around her body. She turns to the front of the room to see Tom glaring at where her hand is still being held by Viktor’s. She rips her hand away and distractedly continues, “Absolutely, yes. Talk to you later, Viktor.” Avoiding Tom’s heated gaze, she rushes over to the Gryffindor table and sits down next to Neville. 

“Why is Professor Riddle glaring at you?” she jumps at Neville’s question, gaze automatically darting to Tom’s and quickly looking away when she meets his angry stare. 

“I, uh, I don’t know. I’m not sure. Oh, roasted potatoes! My favorite!” She loads her plate and starts to eat, hoping he drops the subject. 

“Hermione!” she groans as she hears Ron shout her name. “What were you doing with _Viktor Krum_? What were you talking about?”

She rolls her eyes before she looks up to answer him. “Nothing, Ron. We were talking in the library and he politely escorted me down to dinner. It’s no big deal.” 

His eyes widen and he sputters out, “N-no big-no big _deal_?! Hermione! That’s Viktor Krum! Bulgarian Seeker! It is a _very_ big de—” 

“Drop it, Ronald,” she snaps with a glare and turns back to her meal. 

“I-I—”

“Let it go, Ron” She hears Harry say to him. 

“But it’s _Viktor Krum_ ,” he whispers back. 

“Enough.” 

Ron pouts, but drops it for now. 

She makes sure to leave for the common room with Neville, even when he gets up to leave before she’s done eating. She knows that if she’s alone, Tom will make sure to find her. Wanting to avoid that particular conversation for as long as possible, she sacrifices finishing her meal for the evening. She lets out a sigh of relief when she makes it safely back to the common room without being accosted, but her nerves are only slightly calmed. She knows she can’t avoid him forever.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next week, she’s sitting in the Slytherin common room with Draco, Blaise, Theo, Pansy, and Daphne, studying for their upcoming final exams before Christmas break. They only had two more days of classes before the holiday officially starts, but this year is slightly different. The Yule Ball is a traditional dance held during the Triwizard Tournament on Christmas. As such, all students fourth year and up were given the choice to stay at the school until the day after Christmas if they wanted to attend. Many of them chose to do so, Hermione and her group of friends included.

Hermione’s original plan was to attend alone, seeing as how all of her friends already had dates and she couldn’t just attend with one of them. However, that changed when Viktor asked if she would go with him. He’s met her in the library every day the last week, and they’ve gotten to know each other more. Hermione happily agreed to go with him. 

She hasn’t told any of her friends yet, and she’s not quite sure why. And although she hasn’t talked to him lately anyway, she _especially_ hasn’t told Tom. 

“I need a break,” Theo proclaims as he slams his book shut, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

“I agree,” Daphne says. “We’ve been at this for hours.”

Pansy scoots forward and turns to her and Daphne. “Are we still set to go to Hogsmeade on Saturday to pick out our dresses for the ball?” 

“Yes. Nine o’clock in the Entrance Hall,” Hermione answers. 

“I’m glad you’re still going even though you don’t have a date, Hermione. It wouldn’t be fun without you,” Draco tells her, patting her knee. 

She looks away and reaches up to scratch the back of her head. “Uhh about that…” Better now than never, she supposes. “I actually do have a date.” 

“WHAT?!” She winces as five different shouts ring in her ears. 

“Yes, uh, someone actually asked me the other day. And I agreed.” She sheepishly shrugs her shoulders. 

“Who asked you?” Blaise asks. 

She pauses, chewing her bottom lip as anxiety floods her bloodstream. 

“C’mon, Hermione! Tell us! I can’t believe you’ve kept this a secret,” Pansy whines. 

“It’s um…” She closes her eyes. “Viktor Krum,” she says quietly. After ten seconds of silence, she opens her eyes to gauge their reactions. 

“ _VIKTOR KRUM_?” Theo is the first to react, snapping everyone else out of their shock. 

“Hermione!” Daphne squeals, grabbing onto her shoulders and shaking her. “I can’t believe you bagged Viktor Krum and didn’t tell us!” 

“Oh, he’s soooo handsome,” Pansy gushes with a giggle. “Way to go, Hermione.”

She looks towards Draco as he opens his mouth to speak for the first time since she revealed her secret. “When did this happen?” She narrows her eyes at the slight tone of disbelief in his voice. 

“We started talking a week ago. He asked the other day and I said yes,” she explains. 

“Does Tom know?” he asks. 

Angry at the insinuation she can hear in the question, she glares at him and snaps, “Not that it’s any of his business, but no, he doesn’t.” 

Draco’s expression turns serious. “Hermione,” he starts. 

She stands, throwing her bag over her shoulder and picking up her books. “That’s enough. Tom’s not my father. He doesn’t need to know everything I do.” She turns her nose up at his dubious look. “Theo’s right, I think that’s enough studying for the night. I’ll see you girls tomorrow morning. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Hermione,” the others murmur as she walks away, Draco continuing to give her a disapproving look as she exits the room and stalks back to her own dorm. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hermione straightens up from her position crouched over to put on her heels. She can’t believe she let Pansy and Daphne talk her into heels at all, let alone strappy black ones with a silver snake that wrapped around her ankle. Her whole outfit is very Slytherin-esque now that she thinks about it. Her dress is long with a satin emerald green fabric. The sleeves reach her wrists, and the neckline plunges _extremely_ lower than she’s comfortable with. Fabric wraps around the waist, pulling it in tight before it flares out to the ground. A long slit travels up to her left thigh—another thing she’s highly uncomfortable with. 

“Please tell me again why I let you two talk me into wearing this?” she asks her mischievous friends. 

“Because you look _hot_ , Hermione!” Daphne emphasizes as she swipes on some lipstick. 

Pansy nods. “Green really is your color. And this dress is showing off all your best features. Viktor will love it.” She winks. 

“It’s just so not… me, I guess,” she shrugs. 

“Hermione, you’re smoking hot,” Pansy declares. “I know you don’t like to show it off, but it’ll do you some good to let loose and have fun for once!” 

Hermione sighs, “You’re right, I suppose. I guess one night won’t kill me.” 

“That’s the spirit!” 

“Okay! I’m ready!” Daphne announces, dramatically spinning around and holding out her arms. Daphne chose a dress that matched her personality perfectly. A slinky gold number that had more glitter than a six-year-old girl’s birthday party. Pansy, on the other hand, chose a simple black dress that hugged her curves. Both of them looked beautiful, of course. 

Hermione checks herself in the mirror one more time before they leave Pansy’s and Daphne’s dorm room. Pansy smoothed out her hair into sleek, long curls and Daphne did her makeup in as natural a look that Hermione could convince her to do. She has to admit, she does look pretty good. She chuckles quietly. She never expected to think that about herself. 

The girls make their way into the Slytherin common room. The boys are already there waiting with their dates, along with Pansy’s date, Terence Higgs. Draco’s taking Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw, Blaise asked Tracey Davis last week, and Theo and Daphne are going together. The two have recently started seeing each other, to the surprise of the whole group. 

Theo’s the first to notice their entrance. “Ooohhh ladies, you all look gorgeous!” He reaches out for Daphne, pulling her close to him and twirling her around as she giggles. 

“I think we may be the hottest group at the ball,” Blaise says, flashing a smoldering grin and winking at Tracey. 

Terence strides up to Pansy, silently telling her she looks beautiful. 

“You look great, Hermione,” Draco tells her with a soft smile. She sends him one back. Although she’s still annoyed about their argument the other day, she can never stay mad at him for long. 

“Where’s your date, Hermione? Are you going alone?” Tracey asks her, head tilted to the side in confusion. 

“I have a date. I just asked him to meet me upstairs,” she answers. 

Before she can ask who, Theo announces that they best head up before they’re late. 

They leave the dungeons, chatting about who they know is going with who and how likely it is that someone will spike the punch. As her friends laugh and joke, Hermione tries to prepare herself for the evening. She wraps her arms around herself, not knowing if the sudden chills are from the cold dungeon draft, or her nerves. She didn’t realize how nervous she was, but now her stomach is flipping with anxiety. She’s never actually been on a date before, and she’s worried that she’ll do something wrong, or embarrass herself. 

She tells herself that that’s the only reason. 

Hermione’s still deep in her thoughts when they walk up the stairs into the Entrance Hall. Distractedly, she scans the room, looking for Viktor in the large crowd. As her eyes make a second pass over the room, she’s jolted from her mind as they land on Tom. Her breath catches and she freezes as she sees him looking right at her. But she doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she finds him staring at her body, his gaze intense as he travels down to her pointed heels and back up again. 

She lets out a shaky breath as she watches him watch her. He hasn’t realized that she’s noticed him yet, so she’s free to take him in. His suit is all black and tailored to perfectly fit his body, highlighting his broad shoulders and flat stomach—back to its usual perfection, compared to beginning of the year. Expensive-looking suede dress robes drape over his frame. She bites her lip as she hungrily runs her eyes over him again and again. Making her way back up to his face, she gasps as her eyes lock on his, staring into her own. 

The room around them fades and they only see each other. He moves to stride towards her, but abruptly stops, glaring murderously at something behind her. Furrowing her brow, she turns just as she hears someone over her shoulder say her name. 

“Hermione,” Viktor says. “You look lovely.” He grabs her hand, laying a gentle kiss on the top. 

She turns her head back to Tom to find his back facing her as he storms into the Great Hall. Mouth gaping, she watches him until he disappears into the crowd. 

“Hermione?”

She whips her head back around to face Viktor, finding a questioning look on his face. She shakes her head to clear it, focusing on what’s in front of her and forgetting Tom. Or trying to, at least. 

“Sorry, Viktor! Thank you. You look very dashing,” she says quickly. And it’s true, she realizes as she glances down at his dress robes. He’s wearing a red jacket with a fur cape thrown over one shoulder, showcasing the style of his homeland. 

She jumps as McGonagall appears at their side. “There you two are! Hurry now, it’s tradition for the champions and their dates to open the ball with the first dance.” Her attention turns to behind them. “Mr. Diggory! Come along!” She leaves them, rushing off to Cedric and his date, Cho Chang. 

Viktor gestures to the Great Hall, holding out his elbow for her. “Shall we?” 

She nods and takes his arm as they make their way into the Great Hall. 

As they walk through the doors, she looks around the room in amazement. If she didn’t know any better, she would think that she was just dropped straight into the middle of a winter wonderland. The walls are white as snow, icicles hang from the ceiling, and three large Christmas trees loom magnificently at the far end of the room. 

So engrossed in the sights before her, Hermione failed to notice the whispers that started as soon as they walked through the doors. She didn’t miss them completely, however, spotting the pointing and starring as she finally looks at the students. She blushes and ducks her head, hating the attention and finding herself wishing suddenly that she would’ve just went alone as she originally planned. 

“Do not hide,” Viktor whispers to her. “You shine brighter than all of these people. Do not let their opinions and remarks alter your own.”

She glances up at him, blinking rapidly at the adoring look in his eyes. She nods and says back lowly, “Thank you, Viktor.” 

He smiles warmly and turns forward, leading her into the center of the room where they meet the two other champions and their dates. Viktor pulls her around in front of him, positioning her for the opening dance. After a beat, the band plucks the first chord. They spring into the dance, the steps coming easy after weeks of dance lessons. 

Hermione smiles and laughs as Viktor twirls her around the room, relaxing more and more with each passing second. After a minute, Dumbledore escorts McGonagall onto the floor, others following in their lead to join the dance. She allows herself a moment to search the room for Tom. She finds him leaning against a wall, arms crossed and body language closed off.

He’s glaring at them. 

“Who is that man?” Viktor asks. She looks up at him to see him staring in Tom’s direction. 

“No one,” she replies quickly. “One of my professors. He’s a family friend.”

Viktor just hums in response. 

Hermione throws one last glance back at Tom. Her stomach turns uneasily and she feels uncomfortable in Viktor’s grasp. Her skin crawls everywhere it meets his own. She quickly turns back to Viktor, her good mood deflating. She turns the feeling over in her head for a moment before she suddenly recognizes it as guilt. She feels guilty that she’s dancing with another man and not Tom. Irritation brews at this revelation. She has no reason to feel guilty. She’s allowed to dance with whomever she wants. She shoves the feeling away into a box and slams down the lid, determined to ignore it and to have a good time. 

Dance after dance passes and her good mood slowly returns. Viktor is funny and charming and sweet, and he knows exactly what to say to make her feel like the most special girl in the room. She breathes heavily as she exhaustedly moves through the last steps of a waltz, her body overheated and mouth dry. They finish the dance and she declines the next, opting to head over to the drink table to clench her thirst and cool down. 

On the way, Viktor is stopped by one of his friends. Hermione motions for him to talk and she continues on to get a drink. She steps into line behind two Beauxbatons girls. She hears them talking French and giggling quietly to each other. There’s just one more person in front of them, grabbing their drink from the house elf serving at the table. 

She scans the room for her friends. Finding them across the room, sitting at one of the many tables set up in a corner, she decides to go over to them after she gets a drink. She’s been so busy dancing with Viktor that she hasn’t talked to them since the ball started. 

She keeps looking around, spotting Neville on the dance floor with Ginny Weasley, both appearing as if they’re having the time of their lives. She smiles wide, overjoyed that he’s having fun after he had admitted to her last month that he was nervous for tonight. 

“Not exactly who I pegged as your type.” She startles at the words. She doesn’t turn, already knowing who it is. 

“Tom,” she says. “How’s your night?” 

He ignores her question. “Viktor Krum, Hermione? I’m shocked.” She shivers at the feeling of his breath on the back of her neck. “Can he even string together two words in a sentence?”

Temper flaring, she whips around. “For your information,” she says sharply, “Viktor is at the top of his class. He’s a lovely conversationalist and we have a lot in common.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure.”

She fumes. “How _dare_ —”

“You look beautiful,” he interrupts, eyes locked on hers. His finger lightly grazes down a fold in her dress. “Green really is your color.”

Her breath catches as she looks down at his hand. There his finger is, just a hairsbreadth away from the slit up her thigh. She watches as he lightly fingers the material of her skirt, feeling just a whisper of the movement on her leg. 

“I miss you, Hermione,” he says in a hushed tone. 

She gasps and blinks up at him. She stutters, “I-I—"

“Is Miss wanting a drink?” She flinches back, whirling around and finding that she’s next in line. 

“Yes, uh, water. Please.” The house elf hands her a glass and she turns back to Tom. “I have to, um, g-go.” 

“Hermione.” He reaches out to stop her, but she’s already moved away. She pushes through the crowd, trying to get as much distance between them as she can. 

She jumps as a hand lands on her arm, but relaxes as Viktor comes into view. 

“There you are,” he says. He furrows his brow as he takes in the look on her face. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” she answers quickly. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my friends.” She pulls him in their direction, firmly pushing Tom away from her mind.

The rest of the night speeds by quickly. They alternate their time between dancing and hanging out with their individual groups of friends. Viktor got along really well with all of her friends. Draco even pitched in with the quidditch talk after a few minutes, which was a pleasant surprise to Hermione. She found that the Durmstrang boys were all really funny and welcoming, too, despite their gruff outward appearance. 

Close to midnight, the night starts winding down. Most of the adults retired to bed an hour ago, and a lot of the students have retired back to their dorms. Hermione has already said goodnight to her friends, and Viktor takes her arm to escort her up to Gryffindor Tower. 

They make their way through the halls and up the stairs. They walk in a comfortable silence, both of them exhausted from the long night. They reach the seventh floor, heading towards the staircase leading up to the portrait of the Fat Lady at the end. 

Midway down the hall, Hermione yelps as she’s unexpectantly pulled into a hidden alcove. She staggers back against the wall as Viktor closes in on her. “Viktor?” she questions.

He rubs his thumb over her cheek, left hand on her waist. “I had a great time tonight, Hermione.” 

“I did, too,” she says. “Thank you for asking me.” 

A pregnant pause fills the space as he scans her face, looking for an answer to an unasked question. 

“May I kiss you?” he finally asks. 

She hesitates, Tom’s face unwittingly flashing through her mind. She mentally shakes her head, irritated that, even while not here, he continues to ruin her night. “Yes,” she says before she can change her mind. 

His hand moves from her cheek to tangle in her hair, cradling the back of her head. He leans forward slowly, giving her time to change her mind. 

She doesn’t. 

She stretches up to meet him, lips finally touching his. The first kiss is chaste, just a small brush of lips. The second is firmer. He pulls her closer to him, his grip on her hip tightening. She gasps at the feeling and he uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss. She’s heard stories of kisses from her roommates and Pansy and Daphne, but this isn’t quite what she imagined. It feels … nice. But there’s something missing that she can’t quite place. She ignores the feeling, relaxing into his embrace as the kiss gets slightly more heated. She feels Viktor’s hand moving, sliding up her side until it rests just under her breast. She steels herself for his touch. 

Abruptly, she feels a rush of air as Viktor is ripped from their embrace. She blinks, confused, before looking into the hall and gasping at the sight of Tom straddled over Viktor on the floor, punching him in the face. 

“Tom!” she yells, rushing over to them. She grabs onto his shoulders, trying to pull him off of Viktor. “Get off of him! You’re killing him!” 

He pauses, whipping his head around to face her. She gasps as she sees his bright, silver eyes. He gracefully rises, striding over to her. He lifts his hands and runs them over her face and body, searching for any harm. Her eyes widen as she sees elongated fingers and talons in place of his hands. She’s frozen in shock, allowing him to continue his inspection. 

She snaps out of her trance at movement on the floor. Viktor groans as he slowly moves to pull himself upright. Tom whirls around, guarding her protectively. She shifts to move around him, but he stops her. A low growl rumbles deep in his throat in warning. 

“I need to check to see if he’s alright! You could’ve killed him, Tom,” she scolds. He still holds her back, growl growing louder. Changing tactics, she softly grabs onto his hand with both of hers and lowers her voice. “Let me make sure he’s okay to get himself to the hospital wing and then I’ll come back to you. Okay?” she asks, ducking her chin and looking up at him through her lashes. 

He takes a moment to think, looking between her eyes, before he nods and steps slightly to the side. 

“Thank you,” she says. 

She walks over to Viktor, who’s just pulled himself up fully to stand. “Viktor? Are you okay?”

“Hermione?” He furrows his brow before looking behind her at Tom, eyes widening. He moves to pull out his wand, but Hermione throws her hands out in front of her to stop him. 

“Wait!” she exclaims. “That will upset him more. Can you get yourself to the hospital wing?”

“Are you crazy? I’m not leaving you alone with him,” he says incredulously. 

“It’s fine. He won’t hurt me,” she reassures. “I’m so sorry about this, Viktor. Please, go to Madam Pomfrey.” At his hesitation, she reiterates, “He won’t hurt me, I promise. I’ll be fine, but you need medical attention.”

Seeing that she’s telling the truth, he nods. He glares back at Tom before turning and slowly making his way back through the hall and down the staircase. 

She waits until he’s fully out of sight before rounding on Tom. “What is _wrong_ with you?!” she demands, hands landing on his chest to shove him back in her anger. He barely moves, infuriating her even more. 

“He was touching you,” he finally speaks, fists—normal again now that the threat is gone—clenched at his sides. 

“And?!” She shoves him again. “That’s none of your business, and it definitely wasn’t reason enough for _that_!” 

“It is my business.” He scowls. “Anything to do with you is my business.” 

She barks out a humorless laugh. “No, it’s absolutely _not_. Especially not now. Not after that _barbaric_ display.” She shoves him a third time. “Leave me alone, Tom. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear about you. I don’t want to _think_ about you.” 

She gasps as he spins her around and pushes her back against the wall. He boxes her in with his hands on each side of her head and leans in close. “You are _mine_ , Hermione. I left you alone because I knew you needed time to sort through your feelings, but in the end, you belong to _me_ ,” he growls. “If anyone else ever touches you again, I won’t stop like I did tonight.” 

She throws her hands up, punching and pushing against his chest. “Get away from me,” she says furiously. 

“Stop,” he commands. 

“No! Go away!” 

“ _Stop_.” He quickly moves to grab her hands, pinning them to her sides and wrapping his arms around her tightly so she can’t move. 

“Let go of me!” She struggles against his hold, thrashing around. 

He just holds her tighter. He bends his head forward and rests it in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. 

After a few minutes, she grows tired and stills. She sags in his arms. “I don’t understand. Why are you acting this way? Please. I can’t think of a single reason that you wou—” she cuts herself off with a gasp. 

She doesn’t know how she could forget. _Veela_. Veelas have _mates_. Tom’s been waiting for _his mate_ for years. A collection of memories barrel into her mind. Tom being nice to her and allowing her to spend every night in his office even though he hates Gryffindors just as much as Professor Snape. Tom asking her to dance at her first Malfoy New Year’s Eve Party even though she knows now that he hates dancing. Tom, enraged, demanding to know what Ron said to upset her. Meaningful glances and fleeting touches. Always knowing when he’s around and feeling her magic drawing her to him. 

She’s stunned. Speechless. Astounded. 

She’s his-his-his… 

“Tom,” she murmurs, sounding far more collected than she actually is. “Am I your mate?” 

He tenses, breath shuddering against her neck. She shivers at the feeling. 

Finally, after a moment, she feels him nod. She shakily lets out the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Her mouth gapes, trying to speak but no words are coming out. She feels so _stupid_. She doesn’t know how she never put the pieces together. 

Well, that’s not true. She does know. 

Never in her life would she have ever thought this would happen to her. She’s not special. Or unique. She’s nothing. But this, this means she’s _something_. And she would have never believed that something like this would involve _her_. 

But it does. 

She’s someone’s _mate_. She’s _Tom’s mate_. This revelation shocks her most of all. 

Tom is still holding her, breathing her in like she’s the only thing keeping him alive. 

Maybe she is. 

She opens her mouth to finally speak. “Tom, I-I—” 

He startles her as he springs away from her and turns, rushing down the hall and away from her. 

She slumps back against the wall, shuddering out heavy breaths, trying to make sense of this and come to terms with the fact that her life has now been irrevocably changed forever.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I am so so so sorry that this has taken me so long to post! I haven’t been in a writing mood AT ALL until the last couple of weeks. There were the holidays, and then I moved at the beginning of the year, and now we have this virus mess going on. All of this equals me just binging Netflix and doing nothing else hahahahaha
> 
> SPEAKING OF THE VIRUS I hope all of you are okay!! And staying inside! I hope this is all over soon! 
> 
> Now, I know I said nothing sexual would happen until Hermione turned 17, but this kind of ran away from me. Sorry to anyone that this bothers, but please remember that physically they’re only 4 years apart! And Hermione is only a few months from being 17 anyway! 
> 
> On with the show!

“He just walked away! _Who does that_?” Hermione finishes her recount of the night before. The night that changed her life forever. She continues her pacing, surprised that she hasn’t worn a hole in the floor.

“Maybe he was just overwhelmed. It’s kind of a big deal,” Draco suggests, shrugging. 

Hermione whirls around. “And it’s not a big deal to me?” she heatedly asks, glaring at her best friend as he sits before her on his bed. “I don’t want to hear anything that you have to say anyway. I can’t believe you’ve known this entire time and you never told me!”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” he shrugs. 

“UGH,” she flops onto the bed beside him, staring up at the ceiling. Her irritation quickly evaporates, and a new feeling starts to push through. Fear. Her chest tightens and her voice grows small as she asks, “Why did he leave me? Does he not want me?” 

“Hermione,” Draco starts softly. “Tom loves you. He would never intentionally do anything to hurt you. I’m sure that he has an explanation for walking away.” 

Hermione sighs and turns over to face Draco. “I’m sure you’re right.” She grimaces. “I don’t know how to act around him now. How are you supposed to act around someone when you find out you’re their mate? Oh Merlin,” she groans. “I’m his _mate_.”

“Don’t worry, Hermione. It’ll all work out.” 

“No, you don’t understand.” Her eyes go wide as she stresses, “Lavender’s going to _kill me_.” 

Draco laughs and shoves her off the bed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hermione rushes down to the Entrance Hall from Gryffindor Tower, lugging her suitcase and Crookshanks along with her. As she steps off the staircase and into the crowd of students waiting for the carriages, she spots her friends and makes her way over to them.

“It’s about time, Hermione!” Pansy exclaims. “We thought you weren’t going to make it.”

Out of breath, she wheezes out, “Crookshanks was giving me fits, but I finally got him in the carrier with some treats.” 

The group around her continues on with idle chitchat as they start to make their way toward the now approaching carriages, and Hermione’s gaze travels around the room, looking for one person in particular. 

“He already left.”

She whips around to face Draco. “What?”

“I saw him leaving when I got here. He probably walked passed the wards and apparated back to the Manor.” 

Hermione’s expression falls as she realizes she won’t be able to talk to Tom before she leaves. She sighs as she climbs behind Draco into a carriage and tells herself to send him a letter as soon as she makes it home.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hermione’s stomach turns anxiously as she waits for Pansy and Daphne to finish getting ready. She fidgets with the hem of her blush colored silk dress where it lays along the middle of her thighs, wondering distantly if it’s too short. It’s almost been a full week since she last saw Tom—when he walked away from her. She’s started a dozen letters to send to him the last few days, but the words never sounded quite right.

She crosses her legs, foot tapping in the air. She leans forward and unconsciously starts biting her fingernails. 

“Hermione, enough!”

Hermione jumps at Daphne’s exclamation. “What?”

“You’ve been fretting since we got here. You need to calm down!” 

She groans, “I’m sorry. I’m just so nervous.” 

Pansy walks over and grabs both of Hermione’s hands into her own and pulls her up off her seat. “Hermione, repeat after me: I am a strong woman.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Pansy—”

“Shush! Repeat!”

She sighs. “I am a strong woman.”

“I am beautiful. I am smart.” 

“I am beautiful. I am smart.” 

“Professor Riddle would be an idiot if he didn’t pull me into a broom closet and fuck me tonight.”

Her eyes widen and she rips her hands away. “PANSY!”

“What?” Pansy innocently asks as she makes her way back over to the mirror beside a giggling Daphne. 

“That’s not what I want!” 

“Oh please, Hermione,” Daphne jumps in. “We see the way you look at him when you think no one else is watching. I’m surprised he’s lasted this long before trying to get into your pants, honestly. That man has some crazy self-control.” 

Hermione glares at both of them. “He’s our professor.”

“No, Hermione. He’s _our_ professor. He’s _your_ mate.” 

Just the word shoves the nerves right back up her throat. Groaning, she throws her head in her hands and slams back down into her chair. 

“Come on, Hermione, you should be celebrating! Every girl for the last few decades has secretly wished they were his mate. And you got it!” Pansy throws her fist up in a celebratory punch. 

“Shut up, Pans, that’s not what’s important. Being a Veela’s mate is one of the most romantic things ever. His world revolves around her and making her happy. That’s what she should be focusing on,” Daphne argues. 

As they bicker back and forth, a feeling that she can now put a name to flows through Hermione. A wave of powerful magic rushes toward her and mingles with her own. 

Tom’s here.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hermione sways on the dance floor with Draco as she mentally argues with herself not to look around the room for Tom. She and the girls made their way downstairs over an hour ago, and yet she still has not seen hide nor hair of him. If she was unsure whether he was avoiding her before, she definitely knows now. He always meets her the second she walks in, but not tonight.

As time passes, her anxiety and fear quickly turn into a raging inferno inside her head. _How dare he_ drop something so monumental on her and then disappear. Not even stay to explain or talk to her about it? He knows her better than anyone, so he knows exactly how her mind works and how she’s been turning this over and over and blaming herself. 

That’s it. No more. He better stay away now. She’s not sure what she’ll do to him once he finally shows his face. 

“I can’t believe he still hasn’t talked to you,” Draco says abruptly. 

She sighs. “It’s fine, Draco.”

“No, it’s not fine. He knows what this is doing to you. I can’t believe that he would let you keep suffering like this.” 

She laughs humorlessly. “Clearly he doesn’t care about what I’m going through.”

As the song ends and switches into a new one, some couples leave the dance floor. Draco looks away from her at the movement around them and scowls as something catches his eye. 

“Speak of the devil.” 

“What?” she gasps, whipping her head behind her to see Tom headed right for them. 

“The audacity he has to think he can just walk up to you as if he isn’t in deep shit,” he scoffs. 

She doesn’t reply. She’s too distracted by the thoughts now zooming through her head. What will she say to him? Will she say anything? Does she even want to talk to him? Does he even deserve her words?

Before she can come to a decision, a voice sounds from right behind her. 

“May I step in?”

“Hell no you ca—” 

“Draco,” she interrupts. “I can handle this. Go.”

He looks at her with concern shining in his eyes. “But—”

“Go,” she says softly. 

He searches her face for any sign of hesitance. When he finds none, he nods and backs away. He glares one more time at Tom before walking off in the direction of their friends. She sees them grouped together, staring at her and Tom and looking like they’re arguing between each other. 

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before finally turning toward Tom. He holds out his hand and she takes it, laying her hand on his shoulder as he rests his other one against her waist. They start to sway to the music in silence, neither ready to be the first one to speak. 

Finally, he opens his mouth. “Hermio—”

“Oh, I’m finally worth talking to now?” she spits out, unable to hold her tongue. 

Guilt flashes over his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have avoided you.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have. Do you have any idea how I’ve been feeling the last few days?”

“I—”

“Wait.” She gives a mirthless laugh and shakes her head. “No, of course you know. So that means you just don’t care then, right? You must not if you were able to stay away for so long.” 

She looks away as tears spring to her eyes, not wanting him to see how much he hurt her. 

Abruptly, he stops their dance and pulls her through the crowd and out into the hallway. 

“What are you doing?” she demands. 

He doesn’t answer. She harrumphs but continues to follow him through the Manor until they reach the hallway to their rooms, far away from any eavesdropping guests. 

He finally stops and turns to her, but she stays facing away from him. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just needed some time,” he says gently. 

She jerks her face back around to his. “Didn’t mean to upset me? What did you think would happen? That I would just sit back and logically think ‘oh, I’m sure this was hard for him and he just needs time to think’? Tom, you told me I was your _mate_. And then you just _left me_.” A sob leaves her throat, tears streaming freely down her cheeks now. “Do you have any idea what that did to me? I was convinced that you hated me. That I wasn’t good enough and you _didn’t want me_.”

She gasps as he rushes forward and cradles her face in his hands. He pulls her so close to him that she has nowhere to look but into his eyes. 

“Hermione, I could never _ever_ not want you. Please get that through your big, beautiful brain. I’m so stupid. I should’ve considered your feelings and I’m so sorry that I didn’t. I never would’ve walked away if I knew that’s what you would think.” He wipes away her tears with his thumbs. “Okay? I’m so, so sorry.”

Relief rushes through her. She wraps her arms around his back and crushes herself to his body. He holds her tight and cradles the back of her head, his cheek resting on the top. 

She’s missed him so much. 

“Are we okay now?” he softly asks. 

She nods, sniffling against his button up shirt. 

“Good.” He kisses the top of her head and pulls her tighter against him. 

They sway back and forth for a few minutes, but she can’t stop her brain from yelling question after question for very long. She finally can’t wait any longer. She moves her grip to his waist and starts to pull back from him. She feels his hold on her tighten as she moves, but she gives him a reassuring squeeze and he reluctantly releases her. 

“I have questions,” she explains. 

He sighs. “Yes, of course. Come on.”

He motions for her to follow him further down the hall until they reach the door to his quarters. To her surprise, he opens the door and leads her in. As he shuts the door behind them, she takes the second to quickly glance around the room and take in Tom’s private area. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s nothing personal. White walls and dark furniture. The only thing in the room that gives a clue as to who resides here is a desk against the wall to her left that has what she suspects to be essays laying on top of it. Other than that, this could be anyone’s room.

She follows him over to the sitting area by the lit fireplace and they settle on the couch, a respectable distance between them. 

“Okay, let it out.”

She jumps in. “How long have you known I was your mate? Why didn’t you tell me? Who else knows? Draco knows so I’m assuming Narcissa and Lucius do, too. Oh Merlin, does Dumbledore know? The other professors? _Snape_?” Her eyes widen more and more with every question that comes out of her mouth.

He leans forward and places his finger against her lips. She immediately stops talking. 

“I’ve known you were my mate since the first moment I laid eyes on you in the Great Hall. I didn’t mean to not tell you for so long. At first, I didn’t want to overwhelm you. When I found out you were Muggleborn, I knew that your whole world had already been flipped on its axis. I didn’t want to completely knock it off. Then, it just never seemed like the right time. I wasn’t purposely keeping it a secret, but after so long, I didn’t know how to tell you.”

She nods in understanding. She can only imagine how difficult that must have been; to have this piece of information that’s so important. Something that would change someone’s life forever. To have to decide when the right time would be to tell that person. She won’t lie to herself. She knows that—whatever context—she would have had a hard time coming to terms with everything. 

“And yes, Narcissa and Lucius know. Of course they do. Dumbledore and the professors, too. _Even Severus_.” He adds when he sees the horrified look on her face. “Dumbledore only offered me the position when I told him why I wanted it. He’s been on my case for decades about it. He could tell the second I saw you and realized. And of course, all the professors have to know. It would be a little odd for me to have such a close relationship with just a normal student, wouldn’t it?”

She nods. “I suppose.” Groaning, she says, “Ugh, I can’t believe Snape has known this whole time! How am I ever going to be able to go back to class?” She flops against the back of the couch, hands thrown up to hide her mortified face. 

Tom laughs and leans forward to pull her hands away, pulling them into his lap. He strokes them with his thumbs as he reassures her, “Severus won’t say a word to you. He knows he would have me to deal with if he did.” 

“If you say so,” she grumbles. 

He laughs again and pulls her into his side as he leans back. He throws his right arm around her and rests his left hand on her knee, kissing the top of her head. They’ve always been very comfortable with each other, but now that they’re both on the same page, Hermione is surprised to find that physical affection is coming naturally. 

They settle into a comfortable silence, content with just being in each other’s presence. Problems solved and secrets revealed. 

Again, this doesn’t last long for Hermione. 

All of a sudden, her body focuses in on the feeling of Tom’s hand rubbing her bare knee. Pansy’s words from earlier flash through her mind. _Professor Riddle would be an idiot if he didn’t pull me into a broom closet and fuck me tonight_.

Not that she’s ready for something like that. 

Right?

Right. 

She’s only recently turned 16 and he’s her professor! _Not that either of those things matter when I’m his mate, according to Pansy and Daphne_ , her brain supplies. UGH. She squeezes her eyes closed and tries to shove those thoughts out of her head. 

It doesn’t work. 

She’s surrounded by all things Tom. His smell, his touch. She can even feel his magic like a warm, protective bubble wrapped around her. None of this helps her situation. She can feel a warmth blooming in her core, wetness starting to pool in her underwear. Her breathing is growing heavy and her nipples harden, obvious through the thin material of her dress without the extra layer of a bra. 

The first sign that Tom notices her reaction to him is the change in his magic. The soothing presence abruptly spikes, frantically starting to move over her body. The second sign is the tightening of his hand on her knee. His fingers slide infinitesimally higher on her inner thigh, barely enough to notice. 

But she does. Notice, that is. 

The third sign is the purring. Thankfully, she’s been doing some research over the holiday (come on, she’s Hermione Granger. _Of course_ , she’s been researching), or this part would’ve stumped her. She had Draco send her every book in the Manor’s library on Veelas, and she’s been reading nonstop. A lot of the books mentioned purring. The Veela will purr in multiple situations: contentment, when comforting his/her mate, and…

… arousal. 

All of the signs point to this situation being arousal. 

Oh Merlin. 

“Hermione,” he murmurs. 

“Oh,” she gasps as she feels him move his head into the crook of her neck. He starts to nuzzle there and she relaxes at the feeling. Then, his lips touch her skin. An unbidden moan escapes her throat and the sound encourages him on. He shifts his body and leans further into her, beginning to suck and lick along her neck. She starts to moan with fervor now, unable to hold the noises back. He groans and his grip on her leg tightens and moves further up her thigh, pulling her leg over his own. 

“You’re so beautiful. So perfect. Mine, all mine,” he pants against the sensitive skin of her neck. 

She grabs ahold of his bicep to center herself as he drifts down to start raining kisses along her collarbone. She squeaks as he suddenly sits back and pulls her to straddle him. She steadies herself with her hands on his shoulders as he moves over to the other side of her neck, the availability granted with this new position. 

She moves her hands up, running them through his soft hair— _oh, I’ve always wanted to know what his hair feels like_. She tightens her fists, tugging on the strands. He moans and pulls her into his chest, leaving no space between them. She gasps as her core lands directly on top of his hard cock. 

And _boy_ is it hard. 

She starts to squirm over him, unconsciously trying to relieve some of the tension in her body. His head falls back as she grinds over his hard length. Encouraged by his reaction, she takes advantage of his position and leans forward to steal her own kisses along the thick column of his throat. He pulls her tighter against him, heavy pants escaping his mouth. 

“Sweet, so sweet. I’ve waited for you for so long.”

He moves his hands up her body. Up her thighs, over her barely covered ass, curving passed her hips and waist, and stopping to palm her breasts and tweak at her hard nipples. She jerks back at the unexpected feeling, and he follows after her. He cups her face and slams his lips onto hers. She gasps and he slips his tongue into her open mouth, teasing and tasting her. Fireworks go off around them. This just feels so _right_. This was what was missing with Viktor. It was Tom. 

As they kiss, he moves his hands back to her hips and pulls them down as he tilts his own up. They both moan as they meet. His grip moves to her ass and he starts to grind her against his cock in earnest. 

Overwhelmed and needing air, Hermione rips her lips away from Tom’s and sucks in a deep breath. Undeterred, he goes back to leaving openmouthed kisses on her neck. She runs her hands over every inch of him that she can reach. They’re so close and yet still not close enough. He tilts her back as his tongue inches toward her cleavage and she gasps at the new angle. Every thrust of his hips sends a shockwave of pleasure through her body. 

Heat gathers low in her stomach and builds and builds and builds. “Come on, Hermione. Come for me.” His words push her over the edge, and she moans out his name as he helps her ride out her climax. Her body starts to relax as the feeling drifts away, but Tom starts moving faster. More erratic. Little aftershocks zap through her with every movement until suddenly he pulls her down hard onto his cock and he stills, head thrown back and “mine, mine, mine” repeating in his deep rasp. 

She stares in amazement as pure ecstasy flashes across his face. Slowly, his grip on her loosens and he opens his eyes. Her stomach clenches as his mouth stretches into a wide, content smile. _He’s so beautiful_. He pulls her to him, lazily kissing her. After a minute, he moves back. 

“That wasn’t my intention when I brought you in here.”

“I know.” 

He strokes his thumb along her cheek then holds her waist as he sits up. He lifts her to stand with him. 

“I’m going to clean up and change.”

She blushes as she thinks about what they just did and why he needs to get clean. “Okay,” she says bashfully. 

He kisses her on the cheek, then walks over and opens a door to what she assumes is his closet. She hears him rustling around for a minute, and then he walks back out with a pile of clothes in his arms. He walks over to her and holds a black and green bundle out toward her. 

“I thought you might want to change into something more comfortable,” he says in answer to her questioning look. 

“Oh.” Her eyes widen in surprise at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you,” she says as she grabs the clothes from him. 

“I’ll be right back.”

She waits until the bathroom door closes behind him before he bends down to pull off her heels, rubbing at her sore soles. Then she reaches for the hem of her dress, makes sure the bathroom door is firmly shut, then pulls it up and over her head. She reaches first for the pants he gave her, seeing a pair of black cotton pajama pants. She pulls them up her legs, rolling them at the top a few times so they won’t fall down. Then, she grabs the shirt. She lets out a laugh as she sees it’s an old Slytherin quidditch jersey. Of course he would take this opportunity to get her into something Slytherin. 

She looks up at the sound of the door opening and gapes as Tom walks out wearing lounge clothes. She’s never seen him in anything less than jeans. 

His gaze is also traveling over her clothes, but his eyes flash with a renewed heat. When he reaches her, he grabs onto her hips and smirks. “I knew you should’ve been in Slytherin.” 

She guffaws and slaps him on his chest as he laughs. He leads her back over to the couch and they settle down on it, sitting close together this time. As the party continues on downstairs, they sit with each other and just talk. They discuss how Hermione spent her holiday with her parents and the things she got for Christmas. They talk books and argue over what they think the next Triwizard Tournament competition will be. They just enjoy each other’s presence. 

After a couple of hours, Hermione starts to yawn every few minutes. 

“That’s it. I think it’s time to call it a night.” 

She yawns again. “I think you might be right.” 

Tom stands and turns around to grab her hand and help her up, keeping ahold of her even once she’s standing. Once she’s up, they both start to move—

—in opposite directions. Tom is headed further into the room while Hermione is turned toward the door to the hallway. They both turn back to the other when they feel resistance where they’re connected, confusion on both their faces. 

“Aren’t you com—”

“I’m just going to—”

They both stop, waiting for the other to continue. 

Hermione speaks first, “I’m going to head back to my room. Pansy and Daphne are probably waiting up for me.”

“Oh.” An unknown expression flashes across his face before it turns neutral again. _That can’t be disappointment? Right?_ “Of course. I’ll walk you to your door.” 

They leave the room and walk the few steps to her quarters that are right next to his. As they stop at her door, Tom turns around to face her. 

“I’m sorry again for upsetting you. I’m glad that we’re okay now.”

She smiles up at him. “I am, too. Have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

He glances down at her lips, and she closes her eyes, ready for him to kiss her good night. But instead of pressure on her lips, she feels it on her forehead. She opens her eyes, brows furrowing in confusion. He pulls back from her, squeezes her hand, and says, “Good night, Hermione,” before walking away from her and back to his own room. 

She waits until his door shuts before opening her own, she walks in and closes it behind her. She slumps back against it, head thumping on the hard wood. As she breathes out a heavy sigh, she squints her eyes as the lights suddenly blaze on. Once her eyes adjust to the light, she sees Pansy and Daphne standing across the room from her, hands on their hips and stern expressions on their faces. 

“You have a lot of explaining to do, missy.”


End file.
